New Year Resolutions

I have heard that you should believe in something. I am not a big believer. I am more of a skeptic. One thing I do not believe in, is New Year resolutions. I don't believe that I will wake up tomorrow all new and shiny--despite promises declared in a sleep deprived, potentially inebriated, state. But, if I were going to make one, I might consider something a bit different than losing weight. I think the world needs more people that promise...
to be kind. This can take a lot of paths. Be imaginative. Say please and thank you.

• compliment. Sincerely. 
• courtesy. Especially while driving. At the very least, be less aggressive. 
• to be less offended. Assume best intentions, unless you know better.
• to acknowledge the usual. Take less for granted. Say thank you. 
• help others. Lots of opportunities, just open your eyes.
• to put your phone down. Acknowledge the people you are with. You might even meet someone new.

The possibilities are endless, but my time is not. 

Happy New Year

Life Quotes versus Real Living

I recently heard a Ralph Waldo Emerson quote that I really liked--

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.


It made me think of another favorite passage, from Robert Frost--

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.


And that leads me to another Robert Frost--

The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.


I obviously have a fascination with the woods. I'd say I was in good company. I think the reason the the quote struck a chord with me, is I have struck out into the woods where no trail existed. This usually involves me bleeding, pulling thorns from my skin, god only knows what from my hair and clothing; and occasionally actually getting, sort of, lost. Not surprisingly, it is very difficult to make way, where there is no way made. Yes, yes, I know, I am not supposed to take it literally. But this is MY path.







I stayed on my own path and did not follow the herd. I made a way for myself--Eartha Kitt

Feelings

Some people like to take their feelings out and examine them. They turn them this way, and that way. Upside down and inside out. Throw them under a microscope. Hash, and rehash. To me, it just seems they keep the wounds open. Self punishment. Pain for the sake of pain. Stress becomes a lifestyle. I wonder what they gain?

I, on the other hand, prefer to keep my emotions tucked away in a box. Preferably, in a dark, secure, place. I do, on occasion dust a box off, have a peak inside, then place it back on the shelf. There are lessons in those boxes. Sometimes I need a reminder. And honestly, not all the emotions tucked tidily into those boxes are unhappy. But looking backwards, does not change the past. And it is really hard to drive forward while looking in the rear view mirror.

Every now and then, I get a little emotionally overwhelmed. Too much traffic, not enough storage space. My brain feels like an air traffic controller, with no control. I spin around and around, trying to maintain balance and composure. Lately, I have felt out of control, my emotional plate full. I have an appetizer of work; a salad of holidays; an entree of cancer; a cup of old dog and a dollop of graduation dessert. Work will, well, work itself out, I suppose. The holidays will come, and go. Whether I am ready, or not. The return of the lymphoma, is very much an unknown. A second opinion is on the horizon. I wish the old dog would go quietly into that good night, and not make me make that decision. Graduation, for my son, is a good thing. But even good things add stress. I'll eventually round them all up into a neat package and tuck them away. It isn't that I don't care. I just dislike being miserable...and uncontrolled. Being unhappy does not change the situation. I am strong enough to admit that I have next to no control. I do not feel the need to beat my head against the table. It would, maybe, rattle the plate, but, by no means, wash the dish.

Pressure cooking

I bought an electronic pressure cooker after seeing an infomercial ::gasp:: I know. I drove right to Target and slapped down my money. My husband liked the idea, but has yet to use it...and he's the primary cook. Well, since I hate to see my money go to waste, I dragged it out of the closet last weekend and made my lunch for the week. I did not want to commit to a meal, lest we be starving if it went badly.

First try, what I decided to call, chicken stew.

Whole chicken thighs. Frozen corn. Canned, Italian style, green beans. A cup of water and a dash of this and that found in my seasoning stash. No potatoes for a couple of reasons. Trying to keep the calories down and I find reheated potatoes, unappealing. If I were making this for dinner, I would have added potatoes. I had planned on lima beans, but found the pantry bare. Carrots and celery could have been options too.

It was very simple, and pretty yummy. A good learning lesson.



 So, today, I decided to be a bit bolder. I'm calling this southwestern chicken soup.

Chicken tenderloin. Canned chopped tomato, with green chilies, cilantro and lime. In a brand name, this is called Rotel. I had planned on buying individual items, but when I found it prepared, woohoo! I am not a big, everything fresh, type of cook. I am perfectly fine with opening a can. Then I tossed in a small bag of frozen corn and a can of frigoles negro (black beans) bought in the Mexican section of the grocery. And again, a dash of this and that...and just a pinch of dried red pepper. For kicks.

Again, had I been making this for dinner, or not fretting about calories, I think I would have added rice. And some tortilla strips. Guacamole? I bet some would even elect for cheese and sour cream.


As you might guess, seldom do I cook anything that comes out the same way twice. I measure when I bake, not so much when cooking. I think I have the pressure cooker, chicken thing, down. Now, I am contemplating Italian and Asian varieties.

To go, or not to go, that is the question.

Once upon a time, I was a go-go-go person. I wanted to know what was up there, down there, over there,  and around every corner. That desires seems to have greatly faded. I am unsure if it is age, or the hassle of things. Or maybe age, is why it is a hassle. Part of me is happy, part of me is not. I like being more relaxed, able to just enjoy the here and now. I dislike that I  might be missing something. I enjoyed that bountiful energy, even if others, perhaps, did not. I hate the idea that aging is slowing me down. I guess it comes down to a mental versus physical state. I don't know which one is in charge here.

I still enjoy doing things. I am just a little slower at pursuing them. It is way too easy to just, not. I find myself making excuses. Even in things that I greatly enjoy. The idea of, the planning of, the idea of planning, can become panic inducing. That is another issue I have noticed. Panic. It has become a much more frequent companion as I have gotten older. My research tells me this could be hormonal...another side effect of aging. Damned old age. Or even middle aged. I guess, at 53, I am middle aged. This shit is not for the weak, But it beats the alternative. I am, in no way, ready to give up the ghost. I just need to find balance between my mental and my physical. I need to rouse the inner kid, just a bit, to balance with the old lady that is perfectly happy to sit on the couch and read. Winter coming on does not help that condition. Neither does my husband, a perfectly happy, self proclaimed homebody.

Now that I think about it, I have a long standing history of self seclusion as the days begin to shorten. I love Autumn, but I do miss the sunshine. Yesterday was the first day of gloomy, chilly, Winteresque weather of the season. I came home and ordered pizza. Zero desire to leave the house again. And every reason to do just the opposite. I must not cocoon. I know myself. I just have to pay attention. Time to make excuses to go, instead of excuses to stay.

Battle of the BUG

I had every intention of going out. But I had been doing this and doing that, and when I became an object at rest, with a book in my hands...

Who am I to mess with the laws of physics?

My rest, relaxation and reading are disturbed when I am notified that there is a really BIG bug in the bathroom. I approached the bathroom, imagining the worst--Godzilla cockroach! If you've ever been introduced to palmetto bugs or hissing cockroaches, you have the correct mental image. I boldly enter the bathroom, unarmed even, and approach the location that has been indicated. Now, I must inform you, that I have been sent on this mission by one of the males of my household. I suspect this has been done, in hopes of witnessing the extremely rare instance of me squealing like a girl, or actually admitting to being afraid of something. What I find, much to my relief, is a cicada. Of course, this thing is bigger than any cockroach, and much, much, more...launchable. I grab some tissue and pick Mr Bigbug up. If it had been a cockroach, he would have been sentenced to immediate death by drowning, but a cicada will be released back to nature. I have my prejudices. I walk outside and open my tissue encased hand, Mr Bigbug stares at me with his beady red eyes. You are not going to make me feel guilty. My house, your yard, compromise. After several attempts at failure to launch, I place him and his tissue on top of the garbage can. Negotiations complete, or so I think. I walk the 12 feet, or so, towards the back door. Guess who beat me there? I hear him smack his bug head against the glass door and land on the deck at my feet. Stealthy he is not. OK, I am smarter than the average cicada. I am not going to open the door with you resting on the threshold. Come on, give me some credit. I take my foot and...bump him, with the intentions of redirection. Goal accomplished, he flies up my skirt! When I say goal accomplished, I mean both, that Mr Bigbug has been redirected and I may have, possibly, squealed. There was, I know for a fact, significant dancing going on, and the consideration of stripping off my maxi-dress, on the spot. I do not have much fear of bugs, but bumping around inside my long skirt, he is in very personal space! Hopefully, there were no witnesses to my failed negotiations, as I have no idea just how high that skirt got in my surrender. After proving that he was superior, he released me and allowed me to go back inside, alone.

Finding words

I have word finding difficulties sometimes. Especially names. I am told this is a symptom of my Chiari. Last night, I put a brace on my wrist because it had been bothering me. Nothing unusual. Treatment is rest, why I have the braces for both hands. As I put the brace on I thought of the name of the malady. Internal conversation went pretty much like this:


.......
Chiari. Nope, brain.
.......
Plantar fascitis. Nope, feet.
.......
Tendinitis. Nope, thumbs.
.......
Fibromyalgia. Nope, well, everywhere.
.......
Discitis, Nope, back.
.......
.......
.......
zzzzzz

I could remember the laundry list of my ailments, but not the particular one I sought. I finally drifted off to sleep without remembering the name...carpal tunnel. I knew it the minute I woke up this morning. While unimportant last night, imagine how frustrating this can be. I hate when I blank on a name of someone, especially that I know well.

Imagine having a conversation with someone, and not being able to find a word, like chair. I once tried to tell my husband, there was a hole in his chair. I stood there making the 'sign' for chair. I knew exactly what I was talking about. But he does not know even the rudimentary sign language that I do, so I was still not managing the message. I finally walked over, and pointed.

Standing up

There is a controversy going on in Kentucky. A county clerk is refusing to issue marriage licenses, since marriage for gay couples became legal. She states it goes against her religious belief. I disagree with her stand. A big part of that, is her using religion to make a governmental decision. She is also breaking a Federal law. She has lost all appeals. She is not doing the job she was elected to do. And, I support the choice of two consenting adults the right to marry.

BUT...

I am usually for the rebel. I'll admit it. I am also a huge supporter of people standing up for their beliefs, especially in the face of opposition. So, I had to ask myself, how would I feel if this lady was using religion to do something I agreed with?

The Bible teaches that we should take care of the poor.

Matthew 19:21 Jesus said to him, If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.

So what if, she were feeding the needy out of the county clerks office? There might even be a law against it, as I know there have been people arrested and ticketed for feeding the homeless. I wonder if her superiors would be calling for her impeachment? (Elected officials can not be fired.) Something I have not heard in the current case. I doubt it would go to the Supreme Court. She would not be breaking Federal law. But this is about how I think. Would I stand against her in a situation, where I believed she was doing good?

My answer...

Uncertain. It is a small office, I imagine. What if she could feed the homeless without interfering with the operations of the office? What if, none of her co-workers objected? She would be, in my conjecture, breaking the law based on her religious beliefs.

Sometimes you need to question what you think. Sometimes you don't get answers. Sometimes you wish the people that use the Bible to support their actions, would quit picking and choosing, and live the life they claim they believe in.

Staring at the ceiling

Unfortunately, I spend extended periods of time doing that, from time to time. It is not because I am worrying. I do not lay awake at night worrying. I refuse. Sleep disorder is just a side effect of another disorder...actually, I think they call it a syndrome. Apples. Oranges. Anyway, I lay and I think. Nighttime daydreams. Recollections. Fantasizing. Plans and plots. I thought maybe I could sit here and collect some of those musings. But like dreams, they evaporate in the light of day. What seems so solid at 2 a.m. are just wisps of smoke on closer inspection.

Work

Normal work day...

Alarm goes off at 6 a.m. I am happy if I am still asleep, or grumpy, because I was still asleep.
Make-up.
Hair.
Clothes.
Coffee.
Out the door at 6:33...or, there about.
Traffic.
Parking garage.
Walk.
Dodge traffic.
Walk into the office about 7:15.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Lunch at desk.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Leave office about 3:45.
Dodge traffic.
Walk.
Parking garage.
Traffic.
Home about 4:20, or much, much, later, depending on traffic.

Work at home day...
No alarm.
No make-up.
No hair.
Pajamas.
Coffee.
Walk across the hall, 7:15.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Lunch at desk.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Close computer 3:45.
Home.

I got to sleep an hour more. Accomplished more, without distraction or disruption. Worked the same hours and got to enjoy my evening sooner. The only downfall, I walk 2-4 miles a day at work. Today, I walked about 1/4 mile. I was going to make it up on the treadmill, but the grandson wanted me to play...and that was more important.

Worrying

I have had a multitude of thoughts wander through my mind the last few days. Unfortunately, they are never when I have something at hand to jot them down. My mind moves on to other things, and that musing is lost forever...or at least until the  memory Ferris wheel brings it around again.

I have one thought, however, that is haunting me and won't go away.

I am borrowing trouble. Worrying about what might be. Something I try to avoid. I am not sitting here fretting, frozen in my own worry. That is NOT me. But sometimes, the possibilities creep up on me and I worry. Just a few moments here and there. Sitting here, like this, focusing on that one thing and writing. Writing usually clears my mind. I suppose, this time, only another test will clear my mind. I had an MRI a few days ago. Actually, I had 2 MRIs, but only have the results from one. The MRI of my lumbar spine. It showed that I have a bulging disc in my lower back, with some spinal cord compression. I am not surprised by this. I declined the offer for physical therapy or a surgical consultation. Unfortunately, and I know this from experience, in medicine, when they are looking for one thing, they often find another. I should not say, unfortunately, those accidental findings can be lifesaving...as it allows for early treatment. Just, medical findings, are rarely a good thing. They found something on my left kidney. Something, as a diagnosis, is not very helpful, or comforting. They are going to schedule an ultrasound to take a better look. Hopefully, it is something simple that I can ignore. I ignore a lot. No, I make an educated decision not to treat everything that ails me. A pill for this, and a pill for that, and before you know it, you're taking medicine to thwart side-effects of another. I have been saying no to surgery on my back, for nearly 20 years, and doing quite nicely, thank you very much.
I am still waiting on the results from the MRI on my brain. This one worries me more. I have been previously diagnosed with a Chiari I malformation. (Chiari malformations are structural defects in the cerebellum, the part of the brain that controls balance. Normally the cerebellum and parts of the brain stem sit in an indented space at the lower rear of the skull, above the foramen magnum (a funnel-like opening to the spinal canal). When part of the cerebellum is located below the foramen magnum, it is called a Chiari malformation. Type I involves the extension of the cerebellar tonsils (the lower part of the cerebellum) into the foramen magnum, without involving the brain stem. Normally, only the spinal cord passes through this opening.) This is something that must remain stable. The possibilities are endless and scary. As the consents at work say, up to and including death. The treatment is neurosurgery. And I use the term treatment loosely. I don't want to go there. 

Foggy morning memories

I drove to work yesterday morning, headed east as the sun was waking up, as I usually do this time a year. The wispy clouds were pink against cerulean skies, as far as the eyes could see. My morning commute at sunrise, often makes me wish for more leisure time with my camera. It makes being up so early a bit less painful. I noticed the fields alongside the road deep in fog. There is something about fog that speaks to my imagination. I do not find it creepy. (Though, I dislike driving in the pea soup variety) I do not envision Jack the Ripper. I imagine, instead, myself strolling along on dew covered grass in the quiet early morning. The fog swirling in my wake. I have had many opportunities to enjoy the solitude of a foggy morning. Usually, while others slept after LARPing into the wee hours. This being the case, I never had a camera at hand. On the weekends, I can't seem to manage jumping out of bed, grabbing the camera and heading in search of foggy sunrises. I have seldom heard the forecast for fog, and it, and sunrises, are a time limited opportunity.

Thinking about those early mornings on LARP weekends, other memories surface.

Walking on grass, so frost covered, that it crackles with every step.

A suspension bridge sparkling with frost, as early morning sun invades through the trees. That one ended up in injury, as frost covered suspension bridges are slippery, and the cables are sharp if you grab them trying not to fall. I shredded both hands. Strange how it still remains a favorite memory.

I woke, in an open air cabin, to several inches of snow. Made my way to the "tavern" and made coffee. I sat on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, and watched the world wake up. The snow undisturbed by man, sparkled in the soft early light. Down the hill, deer made their way around a pond. No sounds of traffic or people. Nothing to disturb the solitude. It felt like I was the only person on earth.

Sometime soon, I'll have to write about my late night memories.

Excuse me if my mind wanders

It's 4 a.m. on a Sunday morning and I am not asleep. Instead my mind has been on a vast field trip while I lay awake in bed. Instead of getting frustrated I got up to write. Clear the mind, the rest will follow. Uh huh, sure. But here goes, randomness...

As children, the most important person in our lives, is our parent(s). They teach us, guide us, protect us. Or, at least, that is how it is supposed to work. As teens, it's friends. Their job is much like that of our parents, but often, even less dependable. As adults, it gets a bit more complicated. Many will say that God is the most important person in their life. I often wonder how many think that is the proper response. As, I often do not see them living the life they proclaim to believe in. More on that later. For a lot of adults, that important person, is their spouse/significant other/mate. Sometimes, that role is even filled by the search for that one. The most important person becomes an, often elusive, ideal. More on that later, too. Children, obviously, can be the focus of our lives. It is important to be engaged with your children, but do not get lost in your role as a parent to the exclusion of all else. My Mom once told me, that when I moved out, she looked at Dad and realized she no longer knew him. She had been way too focused on me. Because of this, I worked on the belief that if I cared for my marriage, my children would benefit, and I would still have that, when my sons found more important things in their lives. I won't claim to have done the best job at that. It worked out, but I wish I had done better. Hindsight. Friends can play an important part for adults. They become our support system. At one time, I had a friend that I shared everything with. I could not imagine my life without her. I thought the feeling was mutual, until it wasn't. There was a separation, a reconciliation, then a divorce. Not in the legal sense, but in a very emotional one. Some people find a calling. I have many distractions in my life, but I have not felt a calling to something. A strong passion that I am willing to give myself to...except, maybe the beach. A few people, may, say that they are the most important person in their life. I have mixed feeling about this. At first, I wondered why we did not, generally, think this way? It is important that we take care of ourselves, to be a priority. But, then, those people that will admit to this type of thinking, come off as egocentric. As individuals, we need to be important, but not the center of our own universe.

And on to those additional thoughts...

I am probably repeating myself here, but in an effort to be complete in my random thinking, people often talk the talk, but do not walk the walk, when it comes to God. They proclaim the belief, but do not live the life. They like to preach it, but apparently, it only applies to others. This is not true of all people, but it sure seems frequent looking in from the outside. I will repeat the question too, why be a part of a religion, if you do not believe in the tenets that is the very foundation? Catholics using birth control. Jews eating pork. Wives not graciously bowing down to the leadership of their husband. If that last one surprised you, might want to look closer at your religion. That is pretty standard in Christianity. I am not Christian, of that, I am sure. Instead of picking and choosing what parts of a religion I will follow, I have done much study trying to find a belief system that I can love. So far, I have failed. I like to believe, I hope, that their is a higher power. I hope that we are not alone. I hope that all the craziness has a purpose. I believe faith and religion can be too separate ideas. Faith is inside you. Religion is man-made...and often to a purpose that makes me suspicious.

And that second, follow-up. The soulmate. The one true, just for you, forever and ever, perfect person. Bullshit. People are not perfect. Love is not perfect. You can't sit on your ass and expect a perfect life. It takes work and attention, just like anything else worthwhile.

I give up. Time to try for sleep, before the sun rises.

Quiet

I find myself feeling a bit reclusive. Maybe a bit contemplative. Quiet, even. I am not sad. I am just...internalized. I do not know why, or when it started. Sort of feels like it's been on the edges for a while. I have no time for withdrawing. I have a full-time job and a busy social calendar. Going to have to compromise. Find a median. People don't generally like me when I am quiet.

Memories

I have been plagued by memories over the last day, a sense of deja vu. Without going into a lot of detail, lets just say...I broke down a bit yesterday. And while it was a very brief lapse, it released a flood of memories of very similar circumstances. I spent a good deal of time, previously, testing the theory of Occam's Razor. Once all the horses were eliminated, they started testing me for zebras. I remember the doctors talking about sending me to the Mayo Clinic. I had all these symptoms, but no diagnosis. Over time, the symptoms finally abated...I'm talking years. A lot of it was chalked up to fibromyalgia. After an MRI picked up my Chiari I defect (A birth defect that allows brain tissue to extend into the spinal canal.), I assumed that had been some of the issue. I used to joke, saying, "They thought it was all in my head. Oh, look they were right!" Now, I am looking at my current condition, and thinking, this is feeling way too familiar. I hope I am wrong. I hope I am not going to have to deal with this again. Maybe medicine has gotten better. Just like the MRIs that suddenly started seeing Chiari defects that were once only seen at autopsy. Maybe there is a test now, that can "see" what this is. But I don't have the time or strength to be a guinea pig.

Words...a favorite topic

I frequently write about words. They are so important. I guess I need to use them and find better titles for my posts about them, but today...that is just too much effort.

I have, for the past week, been fatigued. That is the word that best described how I was feeling. All I wanted was to crawl into bed. Well, with work and life, hibernating was not an option. Until my doctor told me Wednesday that I was to leave work, go home, rest and hydrate. And, something odd happened, I followed her instructions. To. The. Letter. I slept off and on most of Wednesday afternoon, until about 4:30. I was back in bed at 11 and slept the night away. I drank enough water to float a battleship.

Thursday, I felt...better. Not good, but improved. I spent the day watching TV and drinking more water.

Today, I got up with every intention of returning to work. The problem with feeling better when you're doing nothing, is you have no idea how you will feel when you go back to your routine. By the time I had been standing 20 minutes, I could feel the muscles in my legs quivering. I realized by the time I was dressed and ready to go, I was going to be exhausted again. I called in. After all, my doctor had originally told me to take the rest of the week off. I just thought I knew better. I hate calling in.

Unfortunately, by the time I sat down, my mind had changed fatigue into weakness. This is where we get into words. I had been fatigued for a week. I can accept fatigued. Weakness, however, is different. I am not weak. I do not accept weak. Weak scares me.

Arguments

People argue. It seems to be the nature of the beast. We have differing opinions, but, in this country, that is supposed to be allowed. I don't think anyone will disagree with me, up to this point.

Here's the problem:

People don't seem to be able to disagree and remain amicable. Few seems to embrace, live and let live, agree to disagree, or I'll show you mine...oh, wait, bad example. There is name calling and fighting. It gets ugly.

I am generally talking about things that I'd like to say, aren't always important. But I can't. They are important to someone. If people did not feel it was so important, they wouldn't keep arguing about them. Well, at least, most people. There are some that just argue for the sake of it.

When people argue, they believe they are right and the other person is an ignorant (add  various insults) ass. And, usually, no amount of screaming and hollering is going to change either mind. Even in the face of facts.

Facts are facts. I'd like to say facts never change, but, science...and well, Pluto. I've lived long enough to see facts change, and sometimes, change again. But with evidence. Science.

Feelings are feelings. How you feel is based on a myriad of different things. How you feel can change frequently. The divorce rate should be all the evidence you need.

So do you base your arguments on facts or feelings? I don't think we can even agree on the difference. We base our arguments on truth. The one and only truth, that we hold to our heart with a death grip from hell. So we argue. Endlessly.

Sorry to disappoint, if you actually thought I could fix anything. I'm just the observer.


And, I should add one of my favorite thoughts---Don't believe everything you think.

History

So much on social media and news bothers me. I am not here to take sides. I can see both sides. It is one of my greatest assets, or one of my greatest flaws. But, it seems to me, that we are trying awfully hard to rewrite, or erase, history. Pull down the rebel flag, or battle flag of the confederacy; I guess, depending on which side you are on. As some are offended by it. I hear they are moving a confederate soldier, a general, I believe. So that people will not be offended by picnicking in the park where he is buried. How long has this park been there? Think about it...Civil War. They are going to change the names of roads that bear the names of confederate leaders. No big deal, you think? What about when they decide to destroy Mount Rushmore? Thomas Jefferson owned slaves. George Washington set about to annihilate the American Indians. I am sure with a little digging, I could come up with something on Lincoln and Roosevelt. What other monuments to our forefathers would be at risk if we really looked back at history? What about the White House? Lots of crap has gone down there! History is not always pretty. It was, obviously, a different time. People thought different, they were a product of their environment. As we are. But let's be careful about how willing we are to destroy our past, lest it be forgotten. There are valuable lessons to be learned from our past.

Think I'm overreacting? Look up ISIS and it's destruction of historical sites. Shameful and sad, and irrevocable. People will protest the destruction of history on the other side of the world, but I'm afraid they are missing what is right under their noses.

Freedom of Religion

I have nothing against religion. Personally, I don't believe in it. Religion is man made. It is the interpretation of whatever holy book that particular religion ascribes to. Usually, I take a live and let live attitude towards religion. However, recent events have raised my hackles. Before I go further, I will apologize to the large majority of the faithful. This is not about you, this is about that loud minority.

I have seen so many stories about people complaining that their religious freedom is being squashed, mostly, lately, because other people gained the right of marriage. Tonight, I saw a picture from a church that was flying the Christian flag above the American flag, because they explained God comes first. This is such a gigantic...what? I can't find words. Well, I found some, I'm just trying not to use them.

I have an idea.

If you want religious freedom, pay taxes. Be free from the special circumstances allowed to you be a government that you disrespect.

That's my 2 cents.

Reciting without meaning.

The original Pledge of Allegiance was short and simple:

I pledge allegiance to my Flag and the Republic for which it stands, one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. 

It was written by a Socialist, as I understand it, to sell more flags. He considered using the word, equality, but knew that, at the time, women and blacks were not considered equal. The original salute to the flag looked a lot like what you see the Nazis doing, arm out stretched. The hand over the heart didn't show up until the 1940's.

In 1923, someone decided that it needed to be clarified which flag a person was pledging to:

 I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

President Eisenhower changed the Pledge to differentiate us from Godless Communists. Probably the addition that has caused the most issues. The current day Pledge:

 I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

There is a lot of amazing history out there, if you just look. The original Pledge was written in 1892. It has had it's controversies, including school children being expelled for not saluting and reciting the Pledge. So much for liberty for all. 

I'll get to my point here. I would think every adult that has grown up in this country, would know these words. It was purposely written to be simple. It was written for children. With liberty and justice for all. 

Liberty--the state of being free within society from oppressive restrictions imposed by authority on one's way of life, behavior, or political views.

Justice--The quality of being just; fairness: In the interest of justice, we should treat everyone the same.

So many things we get wrapped up in and argue about, when we've been promising since we were children that we would not oppress others. Our country was built on the premise of liberty and justice for all. You'd think after all these years that we would understand what that means.

Today in history

Today, the Supreme Court voted to legalize same sex marriage. This has been a long fought battle, for many people, on both sides. My Facebook feed is full of celebration. That is the type of friends I have. Open minds, open hearts. On the inverse, I know there are people whose Facebook feed is full of hatred and anger over the decision. I truly feel sorry for people that would begrudge another human being love. A friend said that he hoped one day they would see the light. 

Unfortunately narrow minds do not let light in. 





#marriageequality
#lovewins

Emotions, part II

Sometimes, after I write something, I keep thinking about it. Like it isn't finished. Usually, when I write, I move on...self therapy. So, I asked myself, what was left out?

I realized there is one emotion that I hang onto. Anger. I am good at anger. Anger makes me look at myself and others. It makes me learn. And I keep a tiny piece of it with me, so that I do not forget what I learned.

Emotions

Some people hold tightly to their emotions. Some people hold tightly to their emotions. No, I have not had a stroke. I am not repeating myself.

Some people, hold their emotions tight, like a lover. They hold it close. They almost seem to nourish it. Feeding the flames of their pain, anxiety, fear. I am not that type of person, so I do not understand.

Some people, hold their emotions tight, like a prisoner. I prefer them at a distance. I try to avoid letting them control me. I have said before, depression is a deep, deep, well and it is hard as hell to climb out of. I just don't go there. I feel pain. I feel anxiety. I feel fear. But I limit the amount of time and energy that I spend on them. I distract myself. I make myself do something else. I know a lot of people do not understand, but I have to do what is best for my mental health. I guess they understand me, no better than I do them.

I recently came across this...

I am not perfect, but I am trying to spend more time at peace.

My summer project

I made the decision, earlier this year, to pursue my CCDW license. That is, concealed carry deadly weapon. The world is becoming a scarier place all the time. Drugs are running rampant and people will do crazy things when they are hurting for a fix. I have been told that I do not look like an easy target. But I have seen young men looking me up and down, and I don't believe it's because they are admiring me. So far, they have judged me either not vulnerable, or not worth the trouble. The older I get, the more likely they will begin to think I am an easy opportunity. I hope to prove them wrong. Yesterday, I took the 8 hour mandatory class for Kentucky. Parts were interesting. Parts were downright tedious...videos on legislation. But, need to know info. There is a 25 question, multiple choice, written test. I scored a 100. Then you have to qualify by shooting. You must hit 11 out 20 shots, in the silhouette, at 21 feet. That is my qualifying target on the left. (The arm tears are from staples). The class was given by two former police women. One of them taught shooting to police officers. The other shot competitively. They were knowledgeable and helpful in their suggestions. While shooting, the instructor was one-on-one with me, so she was able to give feedback. I lean back when shooting, instead of a forward, aggressive, stance. I am also anticipating the shot and jerking the trigger, rather than a smooth follow through. She explained that is why some of my shots go low. I thought better than explaining that I was required, by my very nature to include a couple of groin shots. She was also able to confirm my theory. She stated, that at least once, I did indeed, hit the same hole twice. It explains why I shot 24 rounds, and there are 22 holes. My shooting is not to the standard I would like it to be. But I think Mr Target Man is very, very dead.

Better ways--funerals

A friend just lost a family member. I have always hated that euphemism. But there it is. I have always hated hearing, I'm sorry, in response, as well. But sometimes, there just isn't anything else to say. Anyway, this has me thinking about when my father-in-law died. 1982. It has been so long ago and so much has changed in the way funerals are done. Thank God. I am sure there are places and people that do it the old way, how horrible. We sat for 3 days at the funeral home. Three days of viewings. Three days of condolences. Three days of awkwardness. Three days with limited sleep, emotional overload and bad food. You sat, paced, then sat some more. It was exhausting. I don't know when we moved away from that torture. I'm guessing it probably became too expensive. As opposed to someone having good common sense. As you might guess, I'm glad that tradition evolved.

Vacations

I have taken 2 weeks of vacation this year. And, for the first time ever, I have gone somewhere both weeks. I was thinking today about these vacations, kind of a compare and contrast. The first week, in February, was spent in Mexico. This last week, in May, was spent at a small cabin on a lake.

What they have in common:
They cost a lot.
They both involved being close to water.

What they did not share:
Accommodations: Mexico--luxury. Cabin--simplicity.
Food: Mexico--gourmet. Cabin--sandwiches.
Sunscreen: Mexico--faithfully. Cabin--meh.
Alcohol: Mexico--all day. Cabin--nada.
Service: Mexico--exemplary. Cabin--me.
Travel: Mexico--hours. Cabin--minutes.

There are benefits to both. I enjoyed both.
I have another week in September. No plans.

Yet.


Mexican sunrise.

Cabin sunset

Running away from home

I have, for several years, just wished to run away from home. I did not want to go far. Traveling is stressful. I did not want to go someplace where I would feel the need to do. I just wanted to kick back and relax. Someplace...quiet. But I could not find that place.

The last few days, I have spent in a small cabin on a 20 acre lake. Only 5 cabins spaced around the lake. Not all of them occupied. We rarely saw, or heard, anyone else. Thank God nobody felt the need to blare a radio. The loudest thing around was the bullfrogs, or maybe, the crows.

No internet. No phone. No computers. No neighbors. Barely TV.
Board games. Fishing. Hot tub. Porch swing. Beautiful sunsets. Nature.

And only about 40 minutes from home.

Lessons learned:

I still like my husband. In spending downtime with someone, this is important.
I would be very hungry if I had to survive, on my current knowledge, for food.
Don't leave fishing bait outside. Raccoon are very resourceful. At least it only dined on one cricket container. Not both. Generous.
Crows are apparently very smart, too. One showed up every time I grilled. I did not share. But I suspected if I had turned my back on the plate, he would have helped himself.
My life could be simpler.
It costs more, to do less.
I am still allergic to the great outdoors.
I hope I can do this more often, now that I have found a place to go.
As much as I want to run away, it's good to be home. I miss my stuff.

Mother's Day

I have mixed emotions about today. There is the, where I came from, versus, the who I want to be. I hate the sappy Hallmark type commercials, that seem to show me what a failure my life has been. This is not just Mother's Day, but every holiday. My life has never been, nor would I want it to be a Hallmark moment...well, maybe a moment, now and then. So, I see all the rose colored moments and feel sad for what I do not have.

I think my mother loved me. Fiercely. In the toxic, manipulative, possessive, jealous manner of an abuser. She wanted me all to herself, even to the point of being resentful of my father. I tried to maintain a relationship with her, until her death, but it was best managed at a distance. Physically, as well as, emotionally.

I swore that I would not be that type of mother. I am not jealous. I am not needy. I do not demand their time or undivided attention.  But, I am also aware, that perception is colored by our experiences. I hope my sons realize that I love them, but I feel that I can share them. That I feel like the more people they have, that want to spend time with them, the fuller their lives are. Neither have in-laws, yet, but I assume, someday, they will. There will be another Mom on Mother's Day. I do not need to be the center of attention. I don't want to make their lives more stressful to figure out the logistic of holidays. Come see me the day before, or the day after. Call me and let me know you're thinking of me. I'd rather spend time with you because you want to, not because some date on the calendar, or I, guilt you into it.

And I know, that so many other people feel pain today. Especially, those that have lost the mothers they were close to. Or the women that want badly to be a mom, but, for whatever reason, can't. Those, rose colored, everyone else has a perfect life commercials, have got to be hard for you, too. We should all know, deep in our hearts, that real life does not look like Hallmark or Norman Rockwell. So, why do we emotionally fall prey to it?

Anyway...

To the women, whether you are a biological Mom, adoptive Mom, step Mom, want-to-be Mom, soon-to-be Mom, substitute Mom, or pet Mom...Happy Mother's Day. Do something nice for yourself today.

Friendship...tracing backwards

A friend of mine had a very nice, non-traditional, baby shower this past weekend. Something got me thinking about how we got to that point. Not the baby, the people. Let's see if I can put this in writing.

I met Laura, through Kenny. I met Kenny through Mike and Andrea. I met Mike and Andrea at a club that I went to with a friend that I met at a LARP.

Laura's shower was at Mark and Dawn's house. Laura met Dawn because I introduced Laura to Chris and Erin. I met Chris and Erin after going to a mutual friend's Halloween party. I had met the mutual friend at the same LARP.

My sons had encouraged my participation in the LARP. I went with them. I wonder what path I would be on, it I hadn't gone, or if I hadn't stayed. They say you meet people for a reason. I wonder if our paths would have crossed any other way. Maybe.

Out of these same chance meetings, I have gained so many great people in my life. I am really lucky.

On a brighter note...

I experienced a strange excitement today at the thought of coming home to my husband. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband. We've been married 35 years. But, like anything with that type of longevity, I think we sometimes take each other for granted. We are each others favorite pair of jeans. Comfortable. Dependable. Reliable. Those are all good qualities. But sometimes, when you get too comfortable, you forget to appreciate your favorite things. Every now and then, it wouldn't hurt to dress those jeans up. I guess recent events have reminded me to not take so much for granted. We are not promised forever.

I feel abandoned

Nobody is at fault, except maybe me. Not like I'm talking to people. I'm here, talking to myself instead. Feelings are not always logical. So yes, I can feel abandoned when nobody is aware that I need them. Do I need them? No, nothing they can do. So what is it that I want?

Magic. Only answer I can come up with. I magically want someone to reach out to me and make everything better. And they say we grow out of the magical thinking age around 6. I am a few years, ahem, decades late. If I refuse to act my age, I guess I can refuse to think my age.

Sure. Is. Dark.

It is highly unusual when I can not find the silver lining. It might be so tiny that it is damn near imaginary, but I'll come up with something. I am searching for a glimmer on the horizon. Don't know enough to know how to feel, but I am waffling between optimistic and terrified. I plan. I unplan. I can't move forward...and we can never move back, not really. I am on hold. A standstill.

Stalemate.

More information soon. I don't know if it will help or make things worse. Knowing can be worse. Like going back, you can not unknow. But with more knowledge, I will know where I am headed, I hope. Uphill or downhill. There is no lateral option. Even the best possible outcome, will not be good. It will be the best of the worst. I see a very long, difficult road ahead. I guess that is better than a short difficult road, in this situation.

Checkmate.

Life Changes

They says it's inevitable. We're just going along planning a future. You kind of have to. But then out of the blue something blows it all the fuck up. Sorry, I usually warn about language. I'll warn now. Too little, too late, perhaps. Too soon to know anything. I'm just feeling really unsettled. Fresh wounds, and all that. I found myself home alone, so I sit here and write while I have the chance. This could be a bump in the road, or it could be a derailment into the abyss. Only time will tell and I have absolutely no control over anything. I'm going to have to pull my shit together. Got to be strong, again. I've done this before, and damn it I swore I'd never do it again. Fuck me.

Those moments

There always seems to be those moments that stick with you. A moment in time shared between people, that for whatever reason lives on forever. Sometimes, it's the one thing you remember under particular circumstances. I have a ton of those moments. I guess everyone does.

A few that have been on my mind lately...

It was pouring, cats and dogs as they say, so hard and sideways. People were hanging back, hiding inside the area between the doors at the mall. The stores were closing. Nobody with any sense was going out in that. We looked at each other, pulled off our sandals, and dashed across the parking lot. Laughing all the way. We looked like we'd jumped in the shower fully clothed. Drowned rats. Cats, dogs and rats.

Having a masked man beckon you. Masked, as in Scream. I asked, "Why should I follow you?" He leaned close and whispered, "Curiosity." It was the right answer, the only answer. I could not resist. To defend my sanity, I will divulge this was in a game environment, not just some random masked man...not the Lone Ranger. Actually, I should have believed the masked man's intentions were dishonorable. But, you know, curiosity. Even if it is rumored to have killed the kitty.

Don't lick me. Three little words. Three little, misdirected, words. The beginning of a beautiful friendship. She'd heard rumors, not about me. If she'd heard those, she might have run. ::wink::

Just three, for now. There are tons of those moments. 

Emotions

It is so hard to have emotions that you can not explain. Actually, I guess, that only applies to negative emotions. It is perfectly acceptable to be happy without reason. I strive to maintain high spirits. Usually, I can. But, every now and then, I seem to crash from that loft perch...without reason. Being sad or mad, because something made you feel that way, is understandable. Acceptable. But just to wake, one day, feeling...unsettled. Tired. Gloomy. Bleh. It is just unacceptable. But I am having trouble finding my motivation, to do, anything. I will not give into this. Tomorrow will be better. Will. Be. Better. I have control of how I think. I only have to convince myself. Tomorrow will be better.

Family skeletons

My mother's family has been quite the mystery to me. Her mother died when she was 3, so she didn't seem to know much about them either...or elected not to share. That's the type of person she was. A few things have popped up over the years that piqued my curiosity. I discovered this weekend, that with the help of a few websites, I could put pieces of this puzzle together. When I ran out of pieces, that way, I reached out to one of the few family members I maintain contact with. I shared what I knew, she filled in some blanks.

As I don't want to out other people's skeletons, well anymore than I already have, inadvertently, I will only identify people by their relationship to me and initials. Here goes...

I discovered my grandfather (AA) was born May 11, 1916 and died May 19, 1973. He worked at a saw mill and his highest education was listed as 5th grade. Times were different back then. My grandmother (LG) made it through the 8th grade. Born March 18, 1920, she died at the age of 24, December 7, 1944. "Female problems" was the only explanation for her death that I ever heard. Kind of broad.

LG was AA's first wife, according to birth records, they had 4 children, 2 girls and a set of twin boys. One of those girls, NDA, was my mom. The other girl, MJA, is where one of the mysteries cropped up. Back when my mom was dying, MJA was tested to be a donor, but the test came back that they were not full siblings. A medical error? This weekend research, says no. MJA confirms that she was told by a paternal aunt, that her mother was pregnant with her before she met the man listed on her birth certificate. MJA said she never had any desire to pursue the matter. I wonder if she had never believed it, until that lab test came back?

After LG's death, AA married MLB. She had a son prior to their marriage, and they had 6 children together. One of those children died, so the family legend is, when MLB fell asleep while feeding the baby and rolled over and suffocated the child. That child, named Peggy, died July 1, 1949. They eventually had another daughter, they named Peggy. I'm sorry, that's just weird.

I have, so far, solved a couple of the mysteries I started with. I have accounted for all the siblings and their parentage. I discovered after the death of LG, her children went to live with relatives. My set of twin uncles were adopted at the age of 16, when, as I was told, "some shady shit went down."

I know my mom spent some time at Maryhurst. It is now a school for troubled girls. I don't know if it was the same back then. There are still a few unanswered questions, and a few untouched sources of information, so I may be adding later on.

My relative and I have started a dialogue. We have more in common than either of us imagined. Those kind of things that people on the outside, looking in, never know about. Funny, how someone can wear one face in public and be a completely different person behind closed doors. Everyone always told me how lucky I was. How sweet my mom was. And she was, to everyone else...to their faces. Behind closed doors, she was hateful. I sometimes wonder if that is why I never developed a relationship with her family...all I ever heard was nasty stuff about them. Behind those closed door, I was never safe. She let me know exactly what she thought of me. She was physically, emotionally and verbally abusive. Makes me wonder why I started on this quest to unravel her family tree. Maybe, I thought, I'd find some explanation for the person she turned out to be. I have no doubt she had a hard life, in those early years. But it still doesn't fly. I think I'll close this chapter, maybe unfinished, but this particular history holds nothing for me.

March 25

That's the date. Not a particularly special day. Just today. It's been 3 months since Christmas, and 9 months until Christmas. Six months until the grandson's 5th birthday. Heart worm medicine day, always on the 25th. Today, I noticed just a sprinkling of yellow along the freeway. Forsythia, the harbinger of Spring...and allergy season. I noticed some trees taking on a red hue, as they bud. Before long the world will be vivid green, fresh, and new. And itchy. I love Spring, except that one little ::tickle in the throat:: thing. However, we live in the Ohio Valley. We can not assume to have escaped the clutches of Winter until after Derby...at least. It has sleeted on Derby. I know, I was there. I look forward to the flowers, even if they make me sneeze. I look forward to warmer weather, and sandals! Here is hoping for an extended, warm, dry (but not too dry) stormless, Spring. I do not like hot weather. No hurry for Summer. That's my 2 cents for March 25th.

Random thoughts

I was reminded today of having a strange man walk in the front door of my house when I was about 12. I think it was the turning moment in my life that makes me want all the doors locked. He was, essentially, harmless. Of course we did not know that. He made it about half way across the room, before my Dad backed him back out the door. The man smelled of alcohol and was rambling about the gospel. We discovered, later, that he lived several houses down. Weird how stuff like that comes to mind.

Recently, I was thinking about a dog of mine. Jazz was a big, German Shepherd/Husky mix. One day I was out in the yard with Jazz, when he had to decide between something he wanted and minding me. With obvious regret, he minded me. There is a kid out there that doesn't know how lucky he was, or how hard it was for Jazz...and me. We only have control, when it is given to us. Allowed. Do you ever think about that? Jazz allowed me to keep him from mauling that kid. He wanted to take that kid out. He was capable of it. It is unlikely that I could have physically stopped it. I yelled, "Jazz, no!" He stopped, and looked between me and the kid. You could almost see the calculation, was it going to be worth it? He came back to me. I would not be surprised if the kid wet himself. He really should have. The dog had murderous intentions, it was obvious. The kid was an ass that had tormented and teased the dog at every opportunity. Kid was in my yard that day. Dog felt he had the right to protect his yard. Most dogs think we are the alpha. We make the rules, because they allow it. Cats, on the other hand, do not allow it. They think we are foolish for believing we can control anything. Kids fall somewhere in the middle. Some kids allow us the control, others laugh at our foolishness. Think I'm wrong? An adult sets a rule. Kid's options, follow or break the rule. Kid follows the rule, life is good. Kid breaks the rule, and kid gets punished. Kid's options, follow the rule from now on, or not, follow punishment, or not. It's those, or nots, that are a problem. Let me give an example: Kid breaks curfew. Kid gets grounded. Kid sneaks out window. Kid gets caught. Grounding is extended. Out the window again. See a pattern? That kid can disregard any attempt by the adult to make rules. So what does a parent do with a child that refuses to accept that the parent is in control? That is every parent's nightmare.

Okay, enough from my past. For now.

Dear Sandman,

Can we negotiate? I don't know what else I can offer. I invite you over. I try to be a good hostess.

Warm baths, sleepy tea, mediation, reading...downright drugs (prescribed). And, yet, I go to bed and am left struggling to just keep my eyes closed or I drop like a stone in a well, for a nap. It is so hard to be awake for a couple of hours, right smack in the middle of the night. Funny thing, I haven't felt any ill effect, yet. Of course, that will change if you continue to be a greedy bastard. What's a little sleep to you? Sorry, I shouldn't be nasty. More carrot, less stick. Come on over. Stick around a bit. How do you feel about handcuffs?

Do not limit me

I just saw an article that said women over a certain age, should not wear these things...

Of course, you were supposed to click through to find what type of faux pas you were making. I hate, HATE, hate, being told what I should or should not be doing based on my age. Or for that fact, my height, weight, race, or anything else. Yes, I am perfectly aware that some things do not work for me. I am, also, perfectly aware that some people don't seem to be able to figure that out on their own. But this just hit my pissed button on a day when I am already standing on a soap box. It's been a pissy sort of day. NO, let me rephrase, there have already been a couple of piss me off issues today. Otherwise, it's been a perfectly good day. But, I digress. And, yes, I am perfectly aware that I could have just said, I hate being told what to do. That would have hit the nail perfectly square on the head. So, there.

We don't meet people by accident...

I have, in my life, met a lot of people.

Some have merely passed through. Others have imprinted on my heart, mind and/or soul.

Many are still with me, in regular contact. I know what is going on in their lives. We share time, feelings, thoughts.

Others, due to whatever circumstances, have less contact. It does not mean they don't mean a great deal to me. I would be there if they asked. But I do not know the details of their lives. We occasionally touch base with each other.

And there are those, that I rarely see or talk to, but strings stretch back into the past that connect us. Shared blood. Shared memories. Shared history. Shared secrets. Something shared.

Facebook has become the place for me, and I suspect many people, where we maintain connections with others. It is so nice at the end of an evening out, to see everyone got home safe. Or just to know what my friends are thinking about at a particular moment. I have celebrated and mourned with people when they share their lives in this very public forum. I love being able to maintain that connection. Facebook also allows  me to maintain connections with those people that are, more, on the periphery of my life. Or, as I recently posted, to reconnect with people that had slipped away. I have been very surprised recently, when I see relationship updates, from people that I did not know had gotten divorced. Bravo for keeping your private life, private. As much as we all share, nobody wants to see that drama played out in a public forum.

I have also shared many private moments through messages. Like many people, I hate the phone. Though part of me mourns the loss of that intimate connection with another person. That one-on-one connection, where emotions are heard, and sometimes, communicates what isn't being said. I also think, sometimes, the reason we hate the phone so much, is because it requires us to give ourselves to one thing. It is hard to multitask while talking on the phone. Though, I will admit, there was a time when I did a lot of house cleaning that way. Maybe that is why I hate the phone! Look, a revelation! Who knew?

Anyway, wherever our paths crossed and wherever the road has taken us, I feel lucky to have shared some part in your life. I have amazing memories, from a life well spent, with an eclectic group of people. Thank you for sharing it with me.

Old dog

I was given a 4 week project at the beginning of January. It was expanded to six weeks, and now, indefinitely. Yesterday, I created a step-by-step instruction sheet, in PowerPoint, that will be used hospital wide as an education tool. I can see the potential, that it will be used company wide. It is being mocked up as a poster for the doctor's lounge. I am learning and expanding into things I never imagined. It is bizarre to hear someone refer to me as, a subject expert. I may be educating people, on a group basis, as other locations begin using the electronic medical record. I have become the expert. All on my own. This whole project was handed to me, carte blanche. This is what we want, figure out how to do it. And I have done it. It's nice to know I can still learn new tricks.

Catching up

I spent a good deal of yesterday evening "speaking" with an old friend. Speaking as in messaging. Old as in, wow! I had not talked to her in over 35 years, high school. No particular reason. Life happened. We headed in different directions. Our roads never crossed again. I am not big on looking up people from my past. For the most part, I figure they are part of the past for a reason. There are a few exceptions. In this case, she had sent me a Facebook request, sometime ago. I accepted, like I said, no reason not to. But that was the end of it. No communication. Then, last August I sent her a message. There is this anniversary in August, one of those, do you remember where you were days. I remember, I was with her. She did not see the message until yesterday. She laughed, she said she had the same memory every year too. We talked for the net few hours, catching up...husbands, kids, grand kids, jobs, hobbies, talents, envies, wishes and regrets...but not many. It takes a while to catch up. It was nice. We wished each other the best. Maybe we'll stay in touch. Maybe next August. Maybe in 35 years.

How horribly inadequate I am

I tried to find a particular blog entry this morning. Something I intended to share. Unfortunately, the search option on this blog only searches labels apparently. Something, I have been horribly inadequate about doing regularly. Not that it might have done me a ton of good, as I started out using fairly generic labels rather than having a list a mile long. Damn, that is frustrating. But then, let's look on the bright side...I can still remember what it was I was looking for, even if I can't find it.

Here I sit...

in need of therapy. So, I write. It's what I do. You can wander off to other things. Nothing of interest today. Just me and my old friend anxiety. I deal so well, day to day, then I hit a wall and like an egg the facade shatters. It only takes one wrong turn, in one wrong moment, on any given day and Kapow! as they used to say in the old Batman TV show. I have no idea what the stumbling block was today, just a random assortment of trivial crap. Trivial, equals really doesn't matter so I can't even say why it makes me anxious. Why does anything make me anxious? Damn anxiety producing trivial crap screwing up my day. Nope, not going to happen. Time for a re-set. Ctrl + Alt +Delete, ok that only works for a computer. Hot bath...my equivalent. Maybe a hot tea. Disappear into a book? Guess that makes my short cut, bath + bev + book. Still here? Wondering why? I warned you.

Spirits...not the party variety

There has been a spirit trying to get my attention the past two days.

I don't think there has ever been a time in my life when I didn't believe in "ghosts." I say it that way, because people have varying opinions on what a ghost is. I have debated that myself. As I discovered, along the road of life, that my beliefs were in conflict with each other. How can there be ghosts, if you don't believe in an afterlife? It's all about words. I do not believe in heaven or hell. I do believe there exists, within the human form, something that can continue once the body has ceased. That something is the spirit, or ghosts, I have experienced all my life. This has also led to me to a stronger belief in reincarnation. I do not know why some spirits don't seem to find their way, and linger.

I work in a hospital. Not a place most people would think of being haunted. But if you think of the number of people that die in a hospital, would it be so surprising that spirits linger? I have encountered spirits in the hospital before. I have even been with another person that witnessed that same thing. A spirit passing along a hallway.

The last few days, my work has been interrupted a number of times, by someone stepping up beside me at my desk. You guessed it, when I turn and look, nobody is there. This has not ever happened in this office. I don't know why, in the last two days, this has occurred. Nothing special, or new, going on. Of course, I have no idea what has happened outside of my own little personal space.

So far, nobody has mentioned, noticing me turning to speak to thin air. I haven't mentioned seeing a shadowy form in my peripheral vision. I get enough odd looks. Being visited does not scare me. There have only been a few times, when I have felt discomfort, from a spirit. And fewer still, fear. I do wonder why they visit, why me? Is it something about my makeup that draws them, or something about it, that I sense what others do not? I do not hear them, so if there is a message...I'm not getting it. I can't decide if I am grateful or sad. Being repeatedly approached, I can't help but wonder...why?

Perspective

We have recently enjoyed the bright, full, Snow Moon of February. In case you don't know, full moons are named.

http://www.moonconnection.com/full-moon-names.phtml

I have enjoyed many full moons, but for some reason, this most recent one got me thinking. The moon is always full. It is always whole. We just refer to the part that is brightly visible. Those have names too.

http://www.moonconnection.com/moon_phases.phtml

Yes, I have a slight fascination with the moon. Just one of many things that fascinate me.

And along the same line of thought that the moon is indeed always full, I, in my own mind, answered one of those age old questions...is the glass half empty or half full?

The glass, just like the moon, is full. Half with fluid, half with air. 

What I think...

This will surprise some people, I actually have thoughts I do not express. Well, out loud.  These are usually angry thoughts. I do not wish to, um, tip the apple cart, so I keep them to myself. Or, the subject of my irritation is unavailable to receive my rant. And, as this forum is my outlet for such expression...

Initially, I though you were, perhaps, a bit immature. It's okay, immaturity has a cure. It's called time. But time passed. So after thought, and it didn't take a lot, I've decided that you are just selfish. 

Sometimes it's okay to be a little selfish, one must look out for themselves. But you are not a little selfish. You are full blown egocentric, self-centered, inconsiderate, uncaring, selfish. There is no other, beyond what you want. It does not matter who gets hurt as you bulldoze through life, as long as you get what you want. 

I am not sure what to wish for more, that in time you will mature, or that karma just takes a great big gigantic bite of your ass.

Magic Grandma

My grandson and I have had a bit of difficulty identifying me. I know that sounds strange. This may not even be the first blog entry on the subject. But, for the first time, he seems to have settled on a moniker for me. Magic Grandma. Yes, you heard that right. He started off calling me, Her. As grandpa had a habit of telling him, "Go get her." Confusion completely understandable. After deciding that being called Her, as funny as it was, was not really how I wanted to be known, we tried a few traditional titles...mamaw, grandma, meme, nana. He rejected them all, and suggested, Sheila. The name of his favorite purple dinosaur. OK, it was purple, my favorite color, but it was a dinosaur. Maybe Her wasn't do bad. I dropped the subject and in true, head in the sand fashion, hoped it would just work itself out. Then, suddenly, I was Magic Grandma. He declares, when entering the house, "I want to play with Magic Grandma."

Our assumption is, this has something to do with the fact that our dog's name is Majik (pronounced Magic). I mean is that too far of a leap in logic? It amuses the hell out of me on so many levels. I don't know how long I will be Magic Grandma, but it has lasted longer than any other...and he came up with it on his own. I told the husband recently, that when our old man dog passes on, we'll have to get another dog. I think we'll name that one...Favorite. Just in case.