wandering wonderings

an extreme collection

2012-02-10T00:03:00.002-05:00

Continuing to read Howard Zinn's "A People's History of the United States." As I read the account of the Mexican American War, I wonder how a Mexican history book would depict it. It seems human beings are really nasty creatures, as vile as they come, and it is disheartening to know I'm part of that biological grouping.

And yet.

Human beings also create tremendous art, occasionally lay down their lives for each other, dedicate their time and treasure to help the less fortunate.

We are a puzzle, are we not?

a good day

2012-02-09T00:03:00.002-05:00

outdoor news: I heard the owl again today. I also heard a bunch of very agitated finches.

indoor news: A client came by to pick up a dress I altered for her, a very beautiful gown she'll wear on a very special cruise. The dress was on the mannequin, the folds elegantly arranged. When she walked into the room, she cried. She said I was her fairy godmother and she tipped me the amount I charged for the alteration in the first place. But more important than the tip was the pure joy of watching her own joy grow.

It was a good day. I don't know if the finches would agree.

owl watch

2012-02-06T18:59:00.002-05:00

A couple (a real couple?) of great horned owls have been hanging out in the trees behind our house. Though I haven't seen them, I recognize them by their calls. One special night I heard them calling back and forth to each other; one higher pitched, the other lower, matching their songs. Some of our neighbors have heard them, too. We'll see if they stay - I'm hoping so.

stuff

2012-01-29T23:52:00.002-05:00

If I only write about the good stuff, would I be believable? And, for that matter, do I care? This is not about what you believe. Believe what you will. As for me, the whole concept of belief is suspect. But that's another subject for another time.

I know a couple of truths, perhaps not universal. Why should I think that my experience is a teaching moment for anybody else anyway? But it is my experience, nonetheless.

One truth. When the flush of passion wears off, the glue that keeps us together is choice. We choose to love. And it seems that love based on choice is more enduring than love based on hormones. Choice. Better than just staying with the status quo, or succumbing to the inertia of habit. Love. A choice. An awesome choice.

Another truth. The mistakes I made as a young mother continue to haunt me. Nobody's perfect, I know that. People (some people) practice forgiveness, and I know that too. My mistakes probably loom much larger in my own imagination than they do in the lives of my kids. I know that. None of these things help. Why not? That's another story and maybe you'll read about it, maybe not.

Life is such a puzzle, I say, as I ponder both the good and the difficult while sipping a glass of wine. The owls are calling tonight. Are they a harbinger of wisdom? Probably not. They're owls, full of being who they are, and that's good enough. Besides, my spirit animals are red tail hawks, house finches, and polar bears. I haven't heard any of them in the last couple of days.

Hmmm. I wonder if animals have their own spirit animal guides. Doubtful that any of them would choose the human animal as their own guide. We are too prone to screwing things up.

maybe, maybe not

2012-01-24T20:03:00.002-05:00

We had lunch with an elderly couple - in their 80's. She was glad to find a liberal she could talk freely with! In her 80's! Am I showing an age bias here? Probably. Well, moving on. He taught at a seminary, she is involved in things churchy, though not in the traditional sense.

For example...
She doesn't believe in a God that requires a blood sacrifice. That sorta cuts through a lot of Christian dogma, wouldn't you say? So I suggested that we can't even agree on "God", can we? Agreed, she said, but suggested "God" is a foundational grounding kind of thing, ever present, goodness, et al. I think I got the gist of what she meant.

But I had to say something in return: being fascinated by cosmology, and also by archeology, history, etc, I wonder if we're just another herd of animals on a nondescript planet, creating our own meanings and myths in a universe that rolls along regardless of our self created understandings. Maybe when we die, we're just done. Period. Like we presume other animals are just...done.

She asked me if I was ok with that. Yes, finally I am ok with that. Not at first, but now, yes. It also releases me to live fully in this day, without expectation of either condemnation or reward.

I'm very ok with that.
Maybe when I die, I'll have a deeper understanding.
Or not.

what do rocks and watermelons have in common?

2012-01-15T23:00:00.003-05:00

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The early winter interlude has finished. Mike has returned home; our house is quiet again.
Did I say quiet? Maybe during the day, but what about my dreams!?!
Try this one on for size: In my dream I needed to install a program that would differentiate between a watermelon and a rock. If I didn't install this program, my shoes and sock would not match.
Huh?
And then I dreamed it again!
You know what? I'm clueless. Nevertheless, entertained.
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hope

2012-01-08T22:31:00.003-05:00

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this morning
gentle conversation
the gift of hope
things aren't good enough?
of course they are
but I hope for more
reach for more
work for more
wait for more
hope
thanks, Steve

a couple of LOLs

2012-01-07T00:06:00.003-05:00

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You know those auto license stickers you get in the mail - the ones you put on your license plates? Have you ever heard the sound someone makes when they think they've just run theirs through the shredder?

Picture giving your grown son a tube of vaginal cream. Remember my prior post about dodging a bullet? The person who dodged the bullet ended up with a serious bacterial infection on his leg with a side story of fungal infection. When he left the hospital, he was given three prescriptions to fill. I brought them to the pharmacist who filled two of them, and said he was currently out of the third one. However, he went on, I could buy the same thing (and cheaper) off the shelf. Monistat 7. Vaginal cream for fungal infections, apparently. After some time spent sharing laughter with the pharmacist, I paid for all three and brought them home. Second round of laughter as I presented it to my son. But you know what? It's useful information.
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the present moment

2012-01-03T23:56:00.003-05:00

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a bullet has been dodged
good
in fact, thank goodness!
kiss your loved ones
hug everybody else
unless they don't like hugs
then hug them from a distance
you know how that works
life is uncertain
which in fact brings joy to the present moment
it is precious
and that's enough for tonight
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happy happy happy

2012-01-01T18:44:00.003-05:00

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happy new year
or at least happy new day
or maybe just happy new minute
if you can figure out what happiness is...
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creativity

2011-12-28T23:17:00.002-05:00

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August, 2004
Colorado

When is a journey a work of art?

I was juried into Fabric of Legacies, my second show. The first show was thrilling, of course, but an annoying thought that it might be a fluke flitted in and out of awareness. After all, on the radio there's a whole category of songs sung by people who never got to song #2. But this was my second show. So we decided to drive out to Colorado to see it. That in itself seemed a bit silly, since I knew quite well what the piece looked like on my own wall. So from the very beginning I knew this trip was something other than just seeing my own art.

The trip presented opportunities we hadn't originally considered. As we looked at the map, I saw that we could visit Theresa, a friend we haven't seen in almost twenty years. If fact, we'd lost touch with each other until just a couple of months ago. That in itself added delightful mystery to the trip. Twenty years ago she was the first to give me a glimpse of spirituality, rather than religion.

Loveland, CO. We stopped there to see Fiber Celebration 2004, which my friend Bruce Wilcox was in. This was the second all fiber show I've seen, and there's something about this kind of show, which includes art quilts, that intrigues me. I like these shows better than *only* art quilt shows, and I'm not quite sure why. Maybe because there's proportionally fewer flat rectangles on walls. Or maybe it's my classical music background. I've always preferred full orchestra to string ensembles. I just plain like the variety, whether it's art or people or music.

Next stop was Fort Collins and Fabric of Legacies. A great show in a great town. I saw some names I knew, and I'd like to get to know the people attached to those names. I really had no emotional response to seeing my piece in the show, other than a deep satisfaction from taking the chance in the first place.

After a couple of days in the mountains, we drove down into Denver, where I saw four more shows. First was American Tapestry Biennial. When it was presented I wasn't keen on going, but being pushed, I gave it a try. I had a preconceived idea of what a tapestry show would look like, including churchy, medieval, stuffy, dull. Well, that bit of nonsense got blown out of the water! This show was dynamite! Huge pieces. Sculptural pieces. You would have laughed to see me. I'm standing back, looking at the entire piece from as much distance as possible, then getting up close to see the details, becoming entranced with the actual construction, then back again, then forward again. Whereas the basic construction of what *we* do might be a seam or a stitch, and is usually not particularly interesting except in the greater context, the basic construction of a tapestry seems to be intriguing all by itself. I had to "see" with both a close up and a big picture mentality. Both at the same time.
Next to the tapestry show was Small Expressions, an exhibit of pieces 16" or less. Two pieces really caught my eye. One was a weaving of a woman, sitting on the floor, bent over, her head on her knees. But the viewpoint the artist took was from above, looking down at her. The weaving was dimensional, almost a sculpture. What a great study on creating what you see, not what you think you see. The curve of her back, the top of her head, a bit of arms and legs. Fascinating. Then there was another weaving, beadwork, of sorts. And the beads were a local version of Cheerios! It was a serious piece, and I remember conversations here about preservation. Again, variety. I love it.

The next show was the modern tall buildings in downtown Denver. I'd just come down from photographing the mountains, so was still drunk with height, and I'd just come from a tapestry show where it instructed me to look at the close-up and the whole at the same time. It all came together as I considered the individual windows massed together on these huge towering walls. It was more art! And a new thought began to whisper. The more I look at and create art, the more my eyes change, and the more I see art in all kinds of places. Perhaps this is creativity's ultimate gift. It changes me. It changes my ability to see. It changes my perceptions. It opens my heart and eyes, and tears flow.

The last show was a private one. Bruce showed me his entire collection, or at least the portion that was currently living with him. I've never seen anybody's complete collection before. Sure, on the web, but not the same thing. As I looked at each piece individually, laid out flat, I began to wish I could see all of them hung on walls in one place. What a symphony that would be! I could see patterns and preferences that wove in and out of the individual pieces. I guess that's what people call one's "voice".

So I'm home again. Much more committed to making my own art. And to seeing everybody else's art. Before I'm done with this body, I want to mount a solo show of my own. I wish that were a possibility for everybody in whatever way their creativity manifests. It keeps ringing in my head that everybody has a solo show inside them, regardless of the medium.
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show and tell?

2011-12-26T23:58:00.002-05:00

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Are you lissotrichous? I know I am...
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what I said

2011-12-25T23:50:00.002-05:00

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I have a box full of writing I had done when I was in therapy years ago: four years of daily writing. When asked, she said I would know what to do with them when the time came. Well, the time has come. These pages will be thrown out, one page at a time as I read them one more time. I'm in the interesting position now of being compassionate witness to my own self from years ago, feeling one more time the pain, the humiliation, the sorrow, and the joys I wrote about years ago as a wise woman helped me find the courage to heal.

Sometimes I wrote things that I wish to keep.
"Good relationship is sitting on each other's porch, not decorating each other's interior."

thank you, me, for writing and sharing!
or something like that...
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salut

2011-12-25T08:59:00.004-05:00

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soft, quiet morning
the coffeepot is not broken after all
I suspected it wasn't, but the current engineer brains couldn't fix it, thus proclaimed it dead
but it didn't need to be fixed in the first place; it was tired, that's all, and you fix someone else's tired be leaving it the hell alone and giving it a chance to rest.
so there!

this isn't really about coffee pots, though in fact, last night it wouldn't work, and this morning it did, at least for me...
just sayin'

this is about "fixing", in a way
don't we all want to fix things?
I see your demon, your flaw, your unfinishedness, and, just like we reach out to pick off lint from somebody's sweater, I reach out to "fix" that thing about you that I see.
but praise be aging and a chance to learn a few things along the way...
now I know I see your "demon - flaw" thing through my own biased eyes
I see through my own demoned eyes
current demons
footprints from demons from the past
scars from past fights with demons

It is so awesome to be a human being where, when physical growth is complete, we have a chance to become truly human by doing our own internal growth.

Ah well, that's all the musing I have with only one cup of coffee.
Christmas celebrations - though we celebrated our own two and three days before the calendar event, I could still sense the footprints of expectation on Christmas eve.
We exchanged food and gifts, and it was probably one of the best Christmas's ever. Ever. I'm learning to relinquish the reins of super mom, and the sweetness of taking a nap while others did the kitchen work was a gift. I was able once again to enjoy the presence of all three sons at the same time, and it was a gift. I never know when it will be the last time, which makes the gift of their presence more precious than anything wrapped in paper.

But not just that;
the loving hugs of a daughter in law
the laughter of grandchildren
the somewhat bawdy humor with a brother
the loyal and deep love of my husband, who has walked many many miles along side me as I struggled with my physical demons

This is getting a little long, isn't it? That's one of my demons - fear that someone will read this and not see their own presence acknowledged, and will think I don't love them.
or some such.

and on that, I shall pour another cup of coffee from the falsely proclaimed dead coffeepot, and toast the universe and it's myriad ways of healing myriads of things and beings.

salut!
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is

2011-12-19T23:46:00.002-05:00

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a wake, a party, a celebration of life, an acknowledgement of death,
an afterglow
I've never knelt on a kneeler with a glass of scotch in my hand
and saluted a fallen friend before

the beautiful scene of a handful of grandsons, now men, huddled,
holding each other, crying
to be loved so deeply that grown men would cry openly -
that is a good life, and a good death

we stood in line, we signed the book and paid our respects to his wife
then we turned to each other and discussed our own death preparations

it is good to not be afraid of what is
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flamboyant friends

2011-12-15T17:01:00.002-05:00

Flamboyant Friends by Pat Denino | Make Your Own Book

struttin' my stuff

2011-12-04T23:27:00.002-05:00

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Oh, yes. Yes I did. Not his way. My way.
And what was that?
The Christmas tree. For the first time since we've lived in this house and had an artificial tree, I managed to get it up the stairs on my own. Piece by piece. Did I take an unnecessary physical risk? Absolutely not. My visual problem solving brain cells are coming back online. I used as much muscle as I had to safely spare, plus leverage. Not only the tree, but two pieces of furniture. Ok, not sofas, that would be too risky, not only for me, but for him. Small pieces, though. A chair and an end table. Did I say I did it by myself? It is pure delight to consider, evaluate, and choose a course of action. It feels good to test my stability and balance at each step, and sure, I work slowly. But safely. And smartly. Did I say I did it by myself? I did? Oh. Well, perhaps my memory cells will come back online sometime soon, too.
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intertwined

2011-12-03T23:24:00.004-05:00

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she waited
soon, now....
soon she would leap into an infant's body
and begin the journey of becoming human

the Goddess appeared, beckoning the expectant soul to approach
She hugged her deeply, kissed her lovingly
and gave her a disk
a disk, a coin, blank, smooth on both sides

keep this, She said
it is your story, waiting to be written

one side will be written for you,
the details of your environment,
emotional, physical, geographical, social

the other side will be written by you
the details of your spiritual mythology
your choices, beliefs, superstitions, questions
your creativity

when you return to me, we shall read the coin together
it will become transparent
as we read the one side, we'll be able to read the other side, too
as each side continues to write the other side's story

and now, it is time, dear one
Go! Embrace the journey!
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so high so low

2011-12-02T23:32:00.002-05:00

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The day has been delightful! A lovely couple came over for alterations; my chemo sogged brain continues to clear, bringing lightness and laughter I'd almost forgotten about; more birds have found the feeder; a joyful telephone conversation with my oldest and bestest friend;
And then. Last news check of the day, and I see where a gay couple here in Westerville had their house sprayed painted with hate phrases.
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birds

2011-12-01T23:56:00.002-05:00

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I will be spending a fair amount of time at the kitchen window this winter, since we have a bird feeding station close by. I didn't say a bird feeder - that would be too simple. We have two shepherd hooks: a niger seed sock for the finches hanging from one, and both a traditional feeder and a suet holder hanging from the other. The local squirrels quickly figured out climbing the shepherd hooks and emptying the feeder, but George contrived a baffle that has so far baffled the squirrels. They don't need to climb now, though. The sparrows are such messy eaters and throw as many seeds to the ground as they eat, providing plenty of food for the squirrels In fact, I watched the sparrows carelessly throw seed to the ground and actually land on the squirrel's head.
bird count to date:
sparrows
yellow finches
purple finches
tufted titmice
juncos
cardinals
bluejays
and, surprisingly, a red tail hawk sat on our deck for a spell.

Hopefully we'll have at least one day where the temp rises to at least sixty degrees. If that happens, I'll open the window and remove the screen and sit at the table with my camera.
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sweet dreams

2011-11-27T23:42:00.003-05:00

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Last night was the first night in over six years that I could sleep soundly without phamaceutical aids. It is so good to live in post-chemo days.
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sleep paralysis

2011-11-20T22:51:00.002-05:00

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imagine two movies playing at the same time, projected onto the same screen
like similar parallel universes
similar, but not identical
imagine the screen is three dimensional
imagine you are inside the three dimensional screen
physically and mentally helpless
frightened, not because a threat is imminent
but because you are helpless
helpless to sort it out
helpless to move, to call out
and then you wake up
maybe
did you wake up into the dream movie?
or into the normal reality movie?

welcome to sleep paralysis
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it's always something...

2011-11-15T09:06:00.002-05:00

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The knee has returned to normal programming.
Now I have a froat.
Sigh.
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not a normal day

2011-11-13T00:17:00.003-05:00

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A normal day. I work, nap, play, and go to bed. I do not jump off the roof, run a marathon, get on a trampoline, or bend myself into yoga positions. Just a normal day. I go to bed. Sleep. In the morning my knee and leg is bunged up. I can hobble, but not walk. What's up with that? Is it just old age? Oh well. This too shall pass, but none too soon. I'm rather fond of normal walking.
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a good night

2011-11-08T22:44:00.002-05:00

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I'm pleased about at least some of the election results. Kasich got smacked in the chops for trying to destroy unions. Mississippians are not allowing their government to call an egg a person. Mainers have reinstated same day voter registration. All three of these wins were fueled by feet in the street.
And feet are still occupying the streets...
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momentous

2011-11-03T22:21:00.002-04:00

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in this moment
I have no significant pain
I am not being a responsible caregiver
nor am I on any kind of chemo drug
my major business obligations have been met
major screw-ups have been rectified
there is no known ominous event or deadline on the horizon

how long is a moment?
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grrrrrr

2011-11-01T23:42:00.000-04:00

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I HATE chemo brain!!!!!!!!
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and then i shall take a break

2011-10-30T21:38:00.003-04:00

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another dress out the door
one last wedding gown to adjust
a few odds and ends of alterations
and another wedding gown to deconstruct
and then i shall take a break

deconstruct?
she will be using the skirt as a Christmas tree skirt
rather than leave it in a box
for a daughter she may never have
who probably won't want to wear it anyway

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mystery

2011-10-24T23:22:00.003-04:00

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This day is finished. Good. The oncologist has discovered I am anemic, and doesn't know why. Well, that certainly explains my tiredness, and it wasn't just my imagination, or giving in to aging. But now we have to find out why. First up, more blood work. Then one of those poop smear on a slide tests. Yuck. But certainly do-able with minimal annoyance.
But the good news is - I'm off aromasin, at least for a month. Possibly forever. Supposed to take it for five years, I made it to 4.5 years and am now beginning to really really feel it in my head. Or its that because of being anemic? Who knows.

In any case, whether there is something minimal that will be dealt with - or something else - it is becoming increasingly clear that our days are numbered. Hell, they always were! It's just that now I believe it.

Life is still good. All of it. Even if it doesn't feel good at the time.
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bird brain

2011-10-17T00:01:00.002-04:00

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for me at least...
God is no longer an ancient, wise, bearded, father figure
God is no longer triune
nor only male
nor three dimensional even!

at this point, I don't even know what "God" means
I'm pretty sure our human three dimensional limited sized brains can't comprehend even how to ask the questions, much less how to understand the answers

I just finished a good book: "Alex and Me" by Irene Pepperberg. She is a research scientist who worked for years with a parrot on animal intelligence. There is so so so much we don't know, and we fill in the blanks with assumptions that more often than not turn out to be wrong. Pepperberg has done an admirable job challenging some assumptions, but there is still a lot of work to be done, naturally. In the meantime, the gulf between human brains and bird brains is not quite as wide as we've been led to believe.

I'm guessing the gulf between human brains and "God", whatever that might be, is beyond our understanding.

Cool.
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nurturing a cog?

2011-10-12T23:47:00.002-04:00

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It feels good. I have been the go-to person for our attorney whenever one of the front desk workers needed time off. For the past two weeks, I've fulfilled that function for three days each week, and my own sewing and alteration business has suffered because I haven't had the energy for both. Age, don'cha know. Today I told them they'll have to train another person.
I had to figure this one out. I do like being a part of the workaday world, helping to keep one small cog turning smoothly. But I'm my own cog, I've finally determined. My cog brings me joy, and that matters. Yes. My joy is worth nurturing.
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sigh

2011-10-10T23:00:00.002-04:00

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I sat at a desk for six hours: addressed a dozen envelopes, typed one letter, answered the phone maybe ten times. This was not a quality work day, and was more tiring than if I actually had work to do.
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brothers and sisters

2011-10-08T23:54:00.003-04:00

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How in hell did I end up as a science teacher? Yes, I do know. I liked science, but I liked a lot of other things, too, as a kid. As the first in a working class family to go to college, and as someone who didn't really know what women did in the adult world except to be a teacher, a nurse, a secretary, or pregnant, teaching seemed the best option. I'd probably have been better as an art teacher, but that option wasn't presented to me as realistic. This was at a time before I did my own thinking.

Oh well. I taught science, and even enjoyed it until it just wore me out. I never thought of myself as a particularly good teacher, but kids keep telling me I was. That's a puzzle, since I was marginally educated in things scientific. But teaching is about more than the specific subject matter; it's also about learning how to think, to question, to organize; and it's also about relationship. I was damned good at that; encouraging, building up, knowing when to be strong, when to be flexible, when to put on the mommy hat, when to take it off. Mistakes were made, of course.

Today I am so pleased with the friendships and relationships I have with the younger generation. For a time they were my children and students, now they are my brothers, sisters, and friends. Even neighbors! I always sensed that the hierarchy of parent/child and teacher/student was temporary, that somehow within that framework I had to connect to the eternal brothers and sisters that we all are.
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tucker time

2011-10-07T23:24:00.002-04:00

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bike ride today; seventeen miles, and I'm tuckered. happily so, though. maybe next time tucker will start a little later in the ride. no deep thoughts; just rode to the cricket concert, avoided running over a wooly worm, admired a mockingbird, smelled the wonderful smell of farmers' fields, and had lunch with George and Steve halfway through the ride.

it was a good day
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a theory of everything

2011-10-07T00:02:00.002-04:00

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Long ago, I wanted to know everything about everything. But there aren't enough years and I don't have enough brain cells anyway, most likely. So my eyes cast about and eventually landed on a blade of grass. Peering more closely at what I knew about that blade of grass, it became clear, finally, that if all I did was study that one blade of grass and learn all the scientific disciplines that contribute to the knowledge of that one blade of one variety of one plant in my yard, I could learn everything there is to know.
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through the window

2011-10-04T23:18:00.003-04:00

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I am the default substitute front desk person for our attorney, and for three days this week, I'm sitting at that desk. The work is boring, but necessary, I suppose. The desk position has a good view with the floor to ceiling windows - looking out at a cemetery across the street. A fire station is near by, so that provides some color and noise. And hope, too, that they get where they're going in time. Then, at mid afternoon the school buses start rolling.
It seems appropriate, this setting. On one side of the window: people doing what people do, living, learning, dying, sometimes stepping on each other's toes. On the other side of the window, the attorney-referees, helping provide order.
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just wondering...

2011-10-03T22:58:00.003-04:00

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who are you?
no, not your name
a name is just a sound
created by language
who are you beyond the boundary of language?
who are you besides my son
or my daughter
or my grandchild
or my husband
or my mother or father
or brother
or friend?

who will you be when I am gone?
will your presence add to the upward evolution of humans?
will you be a victim of the excesses of my generation?
or will you be a gracious recipient of the creations of my generation?

both, eh.
we carry within us our destruction
and our creation
and we don't always understand which it is, do we?

but I digress
my mind wanders
lets get back to you
who are you?
what are you?
are you anything at all without a name?
without language?
do we need verbal definition in order to
be?

who are you?
who am I?
will you remember me when I am gone?
will I remember you?
will we remember each other when we are both gone?
gone from what?

without language, how could I ask these questions?
would these questions even exist?
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dreamers

2011-10-02T23:05:00.002-04:00

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I've had some amazing dreams lately, and there was nobody I could share them with. Oh, sure, someone would hear me if I talked about them, but it wasn't quite what I was looking for - someone who understood, I guess. It was not necessary, nor even desirable for someone to "understand" the dreams; that would be presumptious. Just someone who understood dreaming, and the desire to share.

We went to a party, a gathering of barbershop singers and their wives. Lisa and I began chatting; we compared notes on our breast cancer endurances and survivals. Then, gradually, we discovered that we both dream; you know, the significant dreams. Not only that, but we were both willing to accept that these dreams and their connections happened in ways we didn't understand, and we didn't feel the need to explain them. All we did was quietly share, embrace each other's mysteries, and honored them as the mysteries they are.
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shoes

2011-09-26T23:25:00.002-04:00

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I am so good at giving quality advice to someone else, yet ignoring that same advice for myself. For example: today I bought two pair of shoes, and, though I knew they were expensive, nevertheless got light headed when the total was given to me. George had to kick my butt to get me to buy the shoes. Did I mention yet that I hate shopping, especially for myself? Did I also mention that I've been wearing my mother's shoes? Hey. They fit. Wherever she is, she didn't take them with her.

So what was that advice? Spend the necessary dollars on your shoes. Scrimp on other clothing if scrimping is necessary, but try not to scrimp on your feet.
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the Pat club and other musings

2011-09-24T23:49:00.002-04:00

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We spoke quietly to each other of the Pat club. Patty Ann, Patty Jean, Patsy, Patti, and Pat. All wives of barbershoppers in the same chorus. Oh yes. Another Pat, a man, who sings in the chorus. It isn't an exclusive club, and we laughingly invite others to be honorary Pats and join in the fun. Or not. Whatever your name is...is quite fine. But today I noticed that all of us have been through very serious life issues. And, of course, Patsy has moved on to whatever happens next. But maybe everybody who makes it to the middle years, at least, has dealt with serious life issues. I don't know, but we have all leaned on each other when the occasions called for it.

At the funeral, my grandson sat in the row ahead of me. He reached back to hold my hand, then pulled my arm forward so he could rest his head against it. I may have looked terminally awkward, but I felt like queen of the universe. He is an amazingly affectionate grandson. I sure hope he can keep that openness, and, of course, clothe it with wisdom. Not all he meets in life will be as open and honest as he is.

So I wonder. At the end of this day, what do I mourn? The end of life? No, not particularly. To make it into your sixties still gives you plenty of time to do the big things in life. Perhaps I mourn more the loss of that openness and innocence that seems to be part of growing up. No, I guess not that, either. Hopefully that childlike innocence gets traded in for the strength and courage to do the big things in life. Maybe mourning is best thought of as a passing cloud, giving shadow for a time, but then moving on. As I like to say, life is good. All of it, Even when its difficult. Then again, that's easy enough to say as a middle class member of a relatively wealthy nation. I don't live in a third world country; I've never witnessed the brutal massacres of loved ones, I've never been tortured. Can someone in those scenarios say life is good, no matter what? I doubt it.

Where does that leave me? Just not knowing a whole hell of a lot is where it leaves me. But I know about me and my own thoughts. That's all I have, that's the only story I can tell, and that's enough.
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who knows

2011-09-21T20:06:00.002-04:00

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A friend has died. Cancer. Age 66. Not a close friend, but we enjoyed each other's company when life tossed us in the same space.It was a sucker punch to get the news...thoughts of her struggle now finished, of her husband and the rest of her family, and of ourselves, who, when we get together, will mourn the loss of her laughter and kick-ass attitude.

I didn't sleep well last night. Patsy was on my mind, and I relived my eight days in the hospital due to the arduous chemotherapy I was on. Yeah, me too. Except I got through it, and she didn't. Neither did several other women make it across the cancer mountain. But I did. Three times. How do we explain any of this? I guess we don't. There's a lot of randomness to life, it seems, and goodness and courage don't buy you anything except goodness and courage.

Today? I can imagine how her family is feeling. It took me close to a year to return to pain free "normal" after my mother's death. And in this moment of quietness I acknowledge that we all die, and none of us knows for sure what happens next.

Tomorrow? Soon I will pay my respects. I remember the first time I attended a service for a woman who had died of cancer. I had already survived two bouts at that time. Her husband held my hand and looked at me so intently. I wondered if he was trying to see what survival looked like, and I felt guilty for surviving. I'll see him again, probably, and I won't feel guilty for being alive. Because the day after tomorrow? Who knows.
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I got plenty of nuthin'

2011-09-19T23:07:00.003-04:00

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trying to decide if there's anything worth noting in this day...
maybe not

but it was a good day nonetheless

backward forward

2011-09-18T23:02:00.002-04:00

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We took a leisurely hike on a nature trail at Flint Ridge. The guidebook explained how flint was made - millions of years ago when what is now called Ohio was the bottom of a sea, sponges used silica to form their structures. Geological processes turned that into flint. And then, not too long ago, native Americans declared the Flint Ridge area to be common ground, where all the nations could come and harvest flint for tools. And, of course, weapons.

So then. You know how you can travel for hours, for days, and watch the landscape change gradually from flatland to rolling hills to mountains to deserts to ocean? I wish I could stay in one spot and time travel to watch the landscape change.

I hold a piece of flint and thank the sponges for making flint possible. Millions of years from now, what will someone hold in their hands and thank us as humans for making something possible? That is, if the earth still exists.

When I'm 94...

2011-09-13T22:36:00.002-04:00

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I worked with a 94 year old woman today. She told me she gave up driving last year. She also told me she takes no medicines. Ninety four years old, she lives independently in her home, and is sharp as a tack. Very, very cool. I want to be like her when I grow up.

hugs and love

2011-09-10T23:45:00.002-04:00

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so tired tonight
worked really hard to finish a wedding gown
and I did
and it was beautiful, both on and off the bride
hugs all around

family came over for a visit tonight
good conversation
good food (we ate out - been too busy to keep up to date in the kitchen)
such a good family - so pleased to be in the family I'm in
hugs all around
love all around

wine finished
off to bed
hugs and love all around to you, too
life is good...all of it

luck

2011-09-06T23:15:00.002-04:00

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I got a text message yesterday from someone who asked for prayers because she was going to have a large mass removed from her abdomen. I didn't know who sent it! I searched through my lists of phone numbers, did a reverse search, and nothing. By luck George had the number. It is one of my students from way back when. She is the age of my sons, and she is scared to death, and she is the age of my sons. Did I say she was young and the age of my sons? In addition to caring very much about her personally (she's had a rough life), it struck me that my own loved ones are not exempt from nature's random hits. And then. I realized that I was a young person, the age of my sons, when I had my first cancer. And then there was a second cancer, then a third. Cool thing is, I'm still here! I may walk out the door tomorrow and be hit by a truck, and though I've had cancer three times, it never killed me. But that damned imaginary truck.....
So. My heart goes out to my student/friend in her fear. She'll have to walk that walk as I did. She may be lucky, she may not. But if she IS lucky, she'll continue on with her life with a little better sense of her own mortality, but also of her own strength.
Life is good. All of it. Especially when you live in the moment and embrace all that is.

getting older

2011-09-04T23:23:00.002-04:00

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We drove for three hours, endured intense heat and humidity while we ambled about waiting for the concert, sat through most of a two hour plus concert in an old auditorium cooled only by open windows, then drove home for another three hours. I, at least, didn't have to be on stage in a tux, enduring not only the heat and humidity, but the stage lights. George did, and he also did all the driving, per his own choice. Today we're both exhausted. I think we really are getting too old to do some things we did easily when we were younger.

Funny thing about getting older...it's not like our brains feel older, it's just that the body can't do what it used to do.

brides

2011-09-03T00:09:00.003-04:00

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This is not the photo I want to show you, but THAT photo should probably wait until after her wedding.

Who?

Oh, just the most drop dead gorgeous bride I've ever worked for, who just happens to have a large dragon tattoo across her high chest, looking right at you above her strapless wedding gown. That, plus some other tattoos, some visible to the public, some not, and a nose ring, and...

She's a delightful and friendly young lady, who would rather have been married in the dress she most loved, a simple dress, actually. Her family and friends convinced her that she needed something more formal, so she brought me two dresses. One for the wedding; a heavy, relatively uncomfortable affair, and one for the reception - the dress she likes best.

I have an appointment with another young lady who wants the train on her wedding gown cut off because her church does not allow trains. Really? I wonder if they forbid tattoos, too; even if the bride dutifully cuts off the train.

aging gracefully - the next big challenge?

2011-09-01T20:19:00.002-04:00

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She really did have only two dresses for school. Her classmates teased her, knowing it was Wednesday if she showed up in her other dress. She has lived with that and other indignities that attend the very poor for close to 80 years. It's not wonder she thinks people are talking about her behind her back - that was her life when she was growing her bones.

We took the three hour drive to see her and attend to her needs, this remaining lonely aunt, who is now ninety years old. She had no children and no other family lives within driving distance. One day she'll have to move, but that is not today's agenda. Now she needs some help sorting through the difficulties of doctors and procedures and exactly what is the senior living facility's responsibility through all of this. In a nutshell, they have none. She is not living in assisted living, so she's pretty much on her own We wish she would be willing to go into assisted living in a facilty close to us, but no, not now. I respect that. Her control over her own life diminishes as she ages, and she's fighting to stay in control.

As I hug her, work with her, listen to her, I know that one day I"ll be in her shoes. May I learn what I need to learn to make my own passage into old age easy for whoever will be looking after me.

there's a story inside everyone

2011-08-29T23:02:00.002-04:00

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A little girl is happy to have two dresses for school. That's it; just two, but she will soon have more. Her mom got my name as someone who might be able to make some dresses for her daughter, who has extreme skin sensitivity to fabrics, and will only tolerate one kind of fabric next to her body. Why that is, I have no idea. So she's been wearing this one dress every day, and then mom found some fabric similar to the dress daughter was wearing, bought a selection, and brought them to me to run up as dresses. It was so rewarding to see the little girl smile and twirl in front of the mirror when she tried on her new dress. It was even more rewarding to get a hug from her.

This tiny vignette is the tip of the iceberg, and I wonder about all the things I don't know. I wish her the best on her journey, and am pleased that I can help her with my skills.

night beepers

2011-08-27T23:51:00.002-04:00

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It was just one of those nights. The medication I started up again after Glacier presented me with enough bone pain to make sleep pert near impossible. When sleep fell on me anyway, the smoke detector decided to begin beeping to let us know about low battery. Why do they only beep at night, anyway? Grrrrrrrr.

Ah well. That was a couple of days ago. We changed all the batteries, and the bone pain settled down. It always does. I still wonder why smoke detectors only beep in the middle of the night, though..

In six months I'll be finished with my five year commitment to aromasin, the estrogen destroying drug that prevents the tumor cells from surviving. I may never have needed it in the first place, one can't know for sure on an individual basis. All we can do is go with the numbers and odds. In the end, we all die, whether we've made good decisions or not. I can live with that...

looking for four part harmony

2011-08-27T00:01:00.002-04:00

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My nightly serenade: katydids, crickets, and tinnitis.
Looking for a bullfrog to provide a classy rhythm bass...

a breath of fresh air

2011-08-25T23:20:00.002-04:00

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On the telephone, she didn't seem to know a lot about her own wedding dress, and she was just spacey enough that I hoped I wasn't going to have a problem when she came over for her fitting. She arrived on time, with her friend, her sister, her mother, and her special needs brother. She is a country girl in the most positive sense - no citified airs, no "sophistication". She was a breath of fresh air, and brought balance to my work. Her brother, 18 years old and carried like a helpless baby, will be in a wheelchair, dressed in a tux, and will be here ring bearer. Her love for him is palpable. He has a good mind, but a basically worthless body. He cannot talk or make sustained eye contact.

It gets better. Her fiance also has a special needs brother, who has a functioning body but not so much with the brain. He will push the wheelchair down the aisle.

This particular group of people restores my faith in the human race. Simple, direct, honest, loving. I am so fortunate to be their service provider for this wedding. In addition, her mom, a nurse, is great! We chatted like old friends, and at some point I'm going to help her with fabric-y things for her son. It seems insurance doesn't cover much for special needs kids, and it seems to me that we can come up with some sensible fixes for some of his needs.

One more thing. As we talked about this and that, it turns out that one of their relatives is a woman I lost track of when I worked at the nursing home some 15 years ago. Maybe more. Hazel was a wonderful co-worker who taught me about ramps (the food), let me shovel horse shit from her barn for my garden, and complained about supposedly smart people who didn't have any "mother-wit".

Today is a blessing.

bridal snag

2011-08-23T23:38:00.002-04:00

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I do dressmaking and alterations. This wedding gown was due for a fitting shortly after we returned from our vacation in Glacier National Park. Unfortunately, we had a faulty sump pump and the basement flooded before the vacation, so my alteration time was redirected to rescuing all my fabrics from the basement. The dress remained unfinished. Fortunately, I am not fond of last minutes, so I still had time to do the alteration before the scheduled fitting. And then something else happened. I put a snag in the dress. Granted, most folks would never see it: on the back side in an inconspicuous place, yet it was a snag nevertheless, an accident, and I caused it. I did what I could to smooth it out, to no avail. Silk chiffon is incredibly fragile as a weave, though silk itself is a very strong fiber. I barely slept the night before the fitting, but when she saw it, she really wasn't concerned. The fitting went well, and I deducted from my alteration charge as a gesture of thanks. Shortly after she left, I got the shakes and spent the rest of the day sleeping.
I'm getting too old for this.

words return

2011-08-21T23:00:00.002-04:00

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It is time to begin writing again.

warnings

2011-05-26T00:07:00.002-04:00

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Tornado watch tonight. That's not so unusual, actually. The difference is now we have a weather radio. Why? Because our area does not have tornado siren warnings. Instead, we get automatic phone calls delivering the weather warnings. The problem is, one of the recent storms knocked out our telephone lines for 12 hours. And, unfortunately, telephone, cable, and internet all come in on the same lines. So. We couldn't watch the storm lines on the television or on the internet. Thus the weather radio.
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even my ribs hurt

2011-05-16T23:48:00.002-04:00

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sniffing
snorting
burbling
coughing
dripping

gads
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here. now.

2011-05-15T23:04:00.002-04:00

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To you lurkers who never comment - and I know you're out there - I'm still here.

I have a bike. A 24" "Townie", very comfortable, and has a low "step-through" that makes it much easier for me to mount.That doesn't mean I'm graceful, unfortunately. That'll come in time.

It's been a hectic prom season, but I enjoy the young women who come in, and, while standing there as I pin their hems, tell me about their plans for the future, their boyfriends, et al. Some bring in dresses that make me think they've never heard of gravity, but they came to the right person. I love seeing the looks on their faces when they come back and try on their corrected dresses, then twirl and preen in front of the mirror with magic in their eyes. Yes, alterations can be a good gig.

I have a horrendous cold, something I haven't encountered in years. I never get colds, the flu, or anything else floating around. I only get cancer. Well, maybe this means a change. I'd rather have colds, anyway, if I have to have something.
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Life is good.

Can you imagine?

2011-04-24T16:30:00.003-04:00

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Given that we are post-Neanderthal (for the most part) homo sapiens, it seems most reasonable that we have separation of church and state. And, to a decreasing extent, we do. Yet I wonder what our country might be like if we did, in fact, have a Christian nation, a nation that followed the teachings and examples of Jesus Christ. In order for this to be meaningful, though, it would have to include all people and institutions, including corporations and financial institutions. It would even have to include churches!

Can you imagine financial institutions telling the truth, charging fairly and only for services actually rendered?

Pharmaceutical companies charging fairly?

Oil companies dedicated to responsibly protecting our environment?

Ah. Responsibility. Compassion. Forgiveness.
The abolition of greed and self-centeredness.

Tolerance for other viewpoints and religions (yes, that is Biblical...)

CEOs respecting all their workers, listening to them, providing fair wages?

Sharing. Giving freely, as individuals, and as groups.
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Westerville march and rally

2011-03-16T23:04:00.004-04:00

Damned proud!!
We didn't brandish guns.
We didn't run hatred up the flagpole.
We marched with teachers who had marched 30 years ago and had spent time in jail for striking.
We marched with families who brought their children.
We marched in solidarity with teachers, firefighters, policemen, ordinary working folk who care about more than money, hatred, and false patriotism.

We marched for those who don't agree with us but still enjoy the benefit of what unions bring to the entire work force.

You're welcome.

The link is to a few photos taken at the rally and march.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2093754&id=1164799342&l=864222023f

to John Kasich's house

2011-03-16T01:05:00.002-04:00

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We attended a rally/march this afternoon right here in Westerville. Over one thousand folks gathered and rallied in the parking lot of the nearby high school. After an hour, we began a march of about one mile to John Kasich's house where we made some noise. He wasn't home, of course, but I'm sure his neighbors told him about it, plus it was on the television. You know, I had no idea there were more than just a couple of liberals in the whole town. Some of the people weren't local, of course. Working class people who will be hurt by the new union busting legislation joined us in solidarity; people from all over the state.

As we must do for them.
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when?

2011-03-14T00:17:00.003-04:00

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"Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again!
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes!"
(from Les Miserables, obviously)

When shall we stand up, march, sing, and fight? When we are reduced to stealing bread? Or when we are smart enough to see the handwriting on the wall?
And how do we open our eyes to see the handwriting in the first place?
And how do we learn to read what we see?
And how do we return strength to our schools?
(from me, obviously)
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Noah no no

2011-03-05T23:41:00.002-05:00

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so much rain today...
flooding
Glad I don't have to bend my brain into believing in Noah and the ark. If Noah were for real, I'd want to slap him for including termites, bedbugs, and ticks.
Anyway...an interesting myth that injects fear into people.
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now

2011-03-04T00:12:00.002-05:00

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It is interesting to read someone's facebook post, saying she feels bad for atheists who must be afraid of dying, since they don't believe there's a God.
I'm guessing that by her standards I would be an atheist.
And I'm not afraid of dying.
Even if there's nothing but....nothing.

Who knows, eh? I used to believe that when I died, I'd go through the tunnel into the light, where Jesus, or maybe my grandma, would be waiting to take me home. Now. I HAVE had a tunnel experience, and it is tres cool. I also believed I was unworthy and would have to be cleansed of my imperfections before I'd gain final admittance to heaven, where I'd spend all eternity doing, oh, hopefully something more interesting than hanging around in a crowd singing praises to God. I don't even like crowds, unless they're at a protest rally.

But now I"m somewhere else in my thinking and believing, and it is probably just as far from the core truth as my original ideas were. That's ok. At least I know now that home is right here, right now.

And now is all there is. I shan't waste it with manufactured feelings of unworthiness, or desire for escape, or hope for reward.
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We are waking up!

2011-03-03T00:02:00.003-05:00

Yesterday we were part of a huge rally at the state house in Columbus, demonstrating our support of collective bargaining for union workers in our state. It doesn't look like the bill will be defeated, but in the long run, workers are uniting as they haven't in a very long time. The people are waking up, and that is a good thing.

A very good thing.

Our greatest threat lies within our borders.

Stay awake, folks! Let's engage our hearts and brains and make this a better country for us all.

Here's a link to my collection of photos.

Columbus rally

panem et circenses

2011-03-01T23:42:00.004-05:00

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We took part in a demonstration at the state house today, protesting an upcoming bill that will weaken, if not destroy, collective bargaining for unions. We understand what the real issues are, and it does not bode well for our country. That being said, I enjoyed walking around, talking with the people, taking their pictures, singing along with the others, shouting out the chants. I like these people, these folks who DO things for their jobs. Real things. But once the "fun" is done, we face a serious threat, actually one of several threats. Somehow, intuitively, I knew these threats would surface in time. And, this evening, I came across a phrase that says succinctly what I've sensed.

panem et circenses
Get your google out if you're interested.
Here. I'll help you out.
panem et circenses

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even redbuds

2011-02-24T00:59:00.002-05:00

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I am truly concerned about what's going on here in this country. There is so much ignorance, so much shoulder shrugging, so much passivity. But I also know I was that way when I was younger, my days filled with a job and child raising. Who had time to stay abreast of the news? And who has time to tease out the real news from the fake anyway, these days? So I suppose its up to us who DO have the time. Yet that doesn't seem to work, either.

Talking to one of my sons tonight, I told him I'm not too worried about him and his brothers. It'll take some time before the middle class gets their collective butts bit hard enough to realize they've handed their butts over to the oligarchs. The grandchildren? That's another story. I fear for them, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do. Fortunately they're intelligent and are being raised to think.

And yet the redbud will bloom whether we have a democracy or a dictatorship.
Maybe.
Even redbuds need appropriate growing conditions.
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third time's a charm?

2011-02-20T23:22:00.002-05:00

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We went to Maine...didn't see a moose.
We went to Florida...didn't see a gator.
When we go to Glacier, I sure better see a grizzly!!!!

(I think I've got the others worried about bears.)
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when it's that time...

2011-02-20T00:36:00.002-05:00

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A bit of road rage was at the wheel, I was in the passenger seat, wondering if this would be the day I'd die. Obviously, not. But how WOULD I like to die? Not wanting this to happen anytime soon, nevertheless when it does, perhaps being in the front line of a demonstration, taking a bullet for the cause. If not that, then like my mom died: with forethought, courage, and grace.

I miss you, mom.
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watching Wisconsin

2011-02-19T00:13:00.001-05:00

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trying to stay ahead of deadlines with my work...when it's time to gather and demonstrate at the capital, I want to be free to go.
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ebb and flow

2011-02-13T21:17:00.003-05:00

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a bit of sadness appears
like a fog
it will disappear the same way

silently
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today

2011-02-11T23:31:00.002-05:00

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Today belongs to the people in Egypt. May they remain strong as they rebuild their country.
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peace

2011-02-11T00:01:00.002-05:00

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peace and strength to the people of Egypt
not "stability"
peace
not dreamy easy carefree peace
but peace that energizes their spirits
foot stomping, hand clapping, shout for joy
peace

strength
freedom
dignity
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which will it be?

2011-01-24T23:27:00.002-05:00

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Some days it's just plain maddening. Here we are, human beings, increasingly able to look deep into the origins of the universe, examine and test the fine tunings of DNA, devise incredibly precise machinery to measure interactions at the the subatomic level. And yet, we are still not much different from the other animals that roam this planet. We are born, struggle through our lives, and die. Pure and simple. In fact, we do it with less grace than most of our animal kindred, who, with a few rare exceptions, aren't malicious. Ok, cats. And we make pets of cats.

If the story has an ending, I wonder if our frontal lobes will be our salvation or our downfall.
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wandering wonderings: delighted

2011-01-23T23:54:00.000-05:00

wandering wonderings: delighted

delighted

2011-01-23T23:43:00.003-05:00

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Nick designed the quilt, chose the fabrics, sewed the squares together, kept grandma straight in her head about placement of patches. After that, grandma sandwiched the layers together and bound it. Then, with a smile and a flourish, we both signed the quilt. After all, it is art, and art is better for the signing.

Within minutes of the signing, he was designing his next quilt.

Nick is nine years old, and I am delighted to be one of his grandmas.
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contemplating

2011-01-21T00:46:00.002-05:00

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It is easier to contemplate my own death than it is to contemplate our separation.
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rippity

2011-01-20T00:17:00.002-05:00

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rippitypoopshitfartbang
my favorite grandma's favorite swear word

It has a bit of comedy to it, and tonight I need to both swear and keep my sense of humor. Spacial relationships, those visual puzzles that I used to love, are now becoming difficult. I have an alteration that involves sewing a mitered corner, and do you think I can figure out where the sewing line is?
stitch
turn right side out
that's not right
remove stitches
draw another line
stitch
turn right side out
that's not right either
repeat over and over and over again
wheres the logic in this???? why can't I solve this with logic?

rippitypoopshitfartbang

Finally, I figured out how to transfer what made sense on the right side to what gets the job done on the wrong side. In addition, I now know what the problem was in determining sleeping arrangements in two different cabin cluster configurations. That was the headache I alluded to in the previous post. I had to actually draw rooms, draw beds in the rooms, and assign possible people to the beds. I didn't understand that I was struggling, and those working with me didn't know I was working with that particular mental handicap.

It's the aromacin. Or maybe it's just an aging brain. Likely it's a combination of both, and it effing sucks. I"ve got a little more than a year left of this particular mental poison, which I willingly take to keep myself cancer free. At least, that's what the numbers say.

humor
forgiveness
love
patience
I need a bombardment of these things, and I need to bombard those I love with the same.
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brain pain

2011-01-18T23:46:00.003-05:00

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Try to picture this...

a point of balance, at least in theory
on one side, a set of variables, all known, but all shifting
on the other side, fewer variables, but only partially understood
plus one other thing - aromasin makes it harder for my brain to hang onto the facts

if we cannot balance both sides, the whole thing just.....melts away, and the vacation bites the dust.

but in the end, it all worked out, and all I had to do was accept the hammering brain pain.
as I told my family, I now have a greater appreciation for those who herd cats
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snow day tomorrow??

2011-01-11T00:15:00.002-05:00

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I'm not kidding, these are the best days in my entire life. Sure, when I was younger I didn't like the idea of losing my youthful energy and appearance and all that goes with it, but now....who the hell cares!!!!! I'm not going to glamourize the struggles I've been through: they happened, they sucked. Yet I've gained from them, too. Perhaps that's as good as it gets.

If I were still teaching, I'd go to bed tonight with hope in my heart. A snowstorm approaches, and school may be called off.
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sad day

2011-01-08T23:36:00.003-05:00

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A sad day, yes? Yes. On the other hand, every day brings sadness and grief to somebody somewhere. It also brings joy to others who are not touched by, and know nothing about the current tragedy.
The world is so much more than our middle class lives and comfortable opinions.
And so, I shall note with sadness that more pain has been added to the cumulative total. When circumstances put me in a position to do or say something that is meaningful and helpful, I will do that. Until then? I guess I'll keep my mouth pretty much shut and continue making art.
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pain

2011-01-06T23:50:00.003-05:00

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That shingles shot yesterday? Side effect is a headache, but they didn't write that it would be an ugly wicked headache that almost made me throw up.
But I didn't.
And today is fine.
And it sure beats shingles pain, so I've heard.

What was interesting was to take a strong pain killer, then go to bed, relax, explore the pain, and watch it subside.
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it is what it is

2011-01-05T22:19:00.002-05:00

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I got a shingles vaccine today. I know some folks who would tell me it is a waste of time, waste of money, or is possibly dangerous. Yet my oncologist recommended it, and he's been good for me.

I guess for me it's about numbers and risk. In another incarnation I might consider a more holistic approach, but where I am now it doesn't much matter. Nobody lives forever, and I've dodged some pretty wicked bullets up to this point.

It is what it is. Period. I'm at peace with it.

Cool spider, eh? It's a wolf spider carrying its egg case. We grow some pretty hefty wolf spiders in our garden, and that's a good thing.
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oneness

2011-01-03T22:35:00.002-05:00

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I have such good friends...
some are family
some I talk with rather frequently
some I don't talk with any more

yet we are friends
singing the same song
the song of the universe

we may glance at each other now and then
as we do what we do
offering our talents and voices
to the universe
to each other

knowing that we reside in the universe
and the universe resides in us

we are One
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cheap entertainment

2011-01-01T23:28:00.003-05:00

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Normally when tired, I take a nap. Today a nap took me...
tossed me into my chair
weighed me down
glued a dream to my eyelids
and when the dream was complete and I woke up
the nap tossed another dream
and another
and another

afternoon naps can be quite entertaining, as long as you're not in a hurry to become vertical
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prelude to dreams

2010-12-27T00:31:00.002-05:00

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Last night I slid into sleep singing/dancing this bit of joy...

three strong, intelligent, independent sons
ah, the joy
their partners and children
ooooohhhhhh, such joy

I am so grateful that I have this opportunity to experience life in the flesh
with all its mysterious journeys
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the family

2010-12-25T17:23:00.002-05:00

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how many ways can I express joy?
all ways but one
if Dave were here for the gathering, it would have indeed been perfect
so, though there was a portion of vacuum,
everything else was sparkly lovingly perfect
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silent the night

2010-12-19T23:41:00.002-05:00

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pizzelles - George made them early this year, and finally has a kick-ass iron and recipe
Italian sausages - done, but will disappear before the big gathering
pumpkin pies - two done, two more to do
cookies - never finished, yet always too many.
Christmas gifts - still in process
tree - decorated
cards - don't do cards
anything else? probably

This, the stuff of Christmas preparations. It's great to have the wherewithall to actually complete the chores and expectations.

and yet

I will stand outside on Christmas Eve, accept the magic of the Christmas myths for what they are, and gaze out at the heavens. With luck, the stars will not be hidden by clouds. As the quietness of the Eve descends, the magic deepens, and I am allowed to gaze deeply, deeply, into the vastness of the universe, and know that I am gazing at the larger version of myself.

The gift I give myself is the awareness that I am not alone. I am part of all that is. The universe sees through my eyes, too, and I add a unique perspective, as do we all.

peace....
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starlight within us

2010-12-18T00:32:00.002-05:00

I am currently reading "Death by Black Hole" by Neil DeGrasse Tyson. The following paragraph jumped off the page...

"It's one thing to know that every now and again, high-mass stars explode. Photographs can show you this. But x-ray and visible-light spectra of these dying stars reveal a cache of heavy elements that enrich the galaxy and are directly traceable to the constituent elements of life on Earth. Not only do we live among the stars, the stars live within us."

disconnect?

2010-12-14T00:04:00.002-05:00

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It was Hoot's 80th birthday party. He was studly at age 40 when I first met him, and he's still studly today. Handsome, yes, definitely. But what is most engaging is his smile and the lively twinkle in his eyes. There's always a laugh waiting for a reason to erupt. The economy has not been on his side, and he's back to work three days a week. He doesn't complain much. He hurts, sure, but he also enjoys people.

At that same party I listened to a wealthy woman friend in her 60s, complaining about getting old; complaining mostly about what hasn't even occurred yet.

Interesting.
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are we?

2010-12-09T19:45:00.001-05:00

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We are alone in the universe....WOW!!!
We are not alone in the universe...WOW!!!
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culture?

2010-11-30T22:39:00.004-05:00

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The television hasn't been turned on once today. What a Wonderful day!!!!! Though the television can be informative and sometimes even entertaining in a quality kind of way, I still think we'd in some ways be better off if it didn't exist.
Ok. Maybe its not the television. Maybe its the programming.
Why? Because the programming is a mirror of our culture.
Culture? The human herd has culture?
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richness

2010-11-28T23:54:00.002-05:00

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chardonnay
possibly a favorite, at least for now

and for now, I toast old friends and aquaintances
forty four years have passed since we last saw each other

one of the joys of aging is the richness that surrounds us
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a peaceful glass of wine

2010-11-27T23:27:00.002-05:00

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sipping a glass of wine...
the house is quiet now
it's been quiet all day
peace. good peace.
I was hungry for the quiet peace
but the gathering was good, very satisfyingly good
family, some extended, and we all get along
despite probably significant differences in...well, whatever it is that we care about
but we care about each other, too
isn't that the important thing?
and if we can do it in small, why can't we figure out how to do it in large?

but for now, peace
peace and quiet
and a glass of wine
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grrrrrrrowl

2010-11-22T23:57:00.002-05:00

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It is so damned difficult maintaining a tolerant, even loving and patient stance toward those who are voting and/or manipulating our country, and perhaps our planet into a perilous condition. I feel anger rising, yet I also know I don't confront very well. It takes time for my brain to process, and by the time it does that processing, the "other" has moved on.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
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a voice of soothe

2010-11-22T00:50:00.004-05:00

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a prophetic voice
some will be angry
others will scorn his words
despite that, he has a large following
of dedicated, intelligent Christians

for me, he is a voice of soothe

retired Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong

http://fora.tv/2010/06/30/John_Shelby_Spong_Exploring_the_Mystery_of_Life
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sigh

2010-11-19T00:00:00.003-05:00

big sigh.....

just because a majority of those who voted chose B instead of A doesn't mean they chose wisely.

stupid is still stupid

but there never were any guarantees that we would get it right...

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the flautist

2010-11-14T00:21:00.003-05:00

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Amanda the flautist (and granddaughter) performed in her first serious concert a couple of nights ago. It's surprising to see how many different kinds of instruments were being used at the 7th-8th grade level - instruments that I didn't see until high school back in my own day. I'm pleased that she auditioned into the top ranked group at her school, and that the conductor presents very professionally. She has some wonderful opportunities and experiences ahead of her, and I'm very proud of her own commitment to excellence.

I'm so glad I'm still here to enjoy being her grandmother. She is such a gift.
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quiet

2010-11-10T00:12:00.002-05:00

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The sky was so clear and blue,
the air was a bit crisp,
and everything was quiet.
Children were in school, their parents off to their work.
The colors and critters of the garden
have departed.

Deserted.
Is this what residents of tourist towns encounter in the fall?
Personally, I like it.
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not so sure we're at the top of the evolutionary tree...

2010-11-07T23:41:00.002-05:00

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The newspaper announced that the homeless shelter is already having to turn people away, and it's quite early in the season and not particularly cold. Can you imagine? I'll be watching to see what manner of budget cuts (and tax cuts) are put in place by our new conservative governor. Compassionate conservative? What a jackass term. Thank you, GWB, for enabling our greed and willful ignorance to proudly march in public.
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