Rated: 18+ · Book · Inspirational · #1201980
Coffee and ideas bouncing off the walls.
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Grab a cuppa Joe and fall into a seat. Here you may find the latest news, a bit of gossip, a rant, or a movie review. You'll definitely see what makes me tick.
|So Eric's computer monitor turned off once and came back on a few minutes later. This, of course, meant that he had to buy a brand new flatscreen monitor posthaste. My monitor has been flaking for two years. But let us not complain--I got a new one at the same time--finally. Our fridge used to freeze everything on the top shelf--it has expanded to include the middle shelf. But obviously a computer monitor is more important.
Spouses. You can't live with 'em, but it's illegal to bury them alive in the back yard.
On the home front, work on the basement is stalled because my friends' baby was in the hospital with a stomach virus. Extra precautions were taken because his grandma had visited from England--and had swine flu recently. He's fine now. They're coming up this weekend. If the weather is nice I'd like Davey to start removing the awning. I looked under it--nothing of value was broken except Eric's parents' antique coat rack which I told him to bring inside 6 months ago so it wouldn't get damaged.
Dari had Witchling School this morning. I am her teacher, but she sets the curriculum. Today she wanted to know how to heal animals. I think she might be a vet when she grows up. I showed her one variation of Quantum Touch, but she isn't focused enough to really understand. Eighteen minutes isn't enough time to delve into any subject very deep. (The Witchling hour, of course, is from 8:00 am to 8:18. Because that's when the bus comes. )
I've never pushed my religion on her, except to honor the ancestors, because that's part of her heritage. But she wanted to learn, so it's my duty to teach her. It's hard distilling spiritual concepts into small sips for little mouths. But explaining anything forces once to search their own beliefs and level of understanding. So it's all good. I did ask her not to talk about it at school--the last thing I need is an irate phone call. It would be even worse if she were ostracized for her beliefs. She's too young to deal with that. I have told the parents of her best friends that I'm Pagan and they didn't bat an eye, but even though this area is progressive and open-minded, there are always those few people who want to make a stink.
If I can get up early enough on Sunday, I'll start taking her to the UU church. It's halfway between a ritual and a church service. That way when she goes to a Baptist church (or whatever) she won't be completely confused. I tried to explain that most people go to church on Sunday, but she's used to going 8 times a year to different places, as our church doesn't have a physical building yet, although we are tax exempt--that took 5 years. I don't know if pagans are poor or just cheap, but we never seem to have any money in the coffers. It made me so mad that I made up offering envelopes and hand them out. Hey--guilt works in any religion!
The only "bad" thing that happened this week was Eric's diagnosis of diabetes. For once, he's taking his health seriously and I'm thankful for that. Wonder if they make gluten-free, sugar-free stuff we can both eat?
My life is a blessing and I'm so thankful for having a home and a great family. What have you been blessed with this week?
|"Service for the highest good has a poetic beauty and earthly grace. By walking a path of truth, love and light we can touch humankind in a way most positive. We all have an oasis of inspiration within us that when shared creates a gateway to spiritual awareness. To reach out a hand to those in need enlightens hearts and frees minds. If we collectively give with love in our hearts we will be blessed with joy in our souls."
Source: Micheal Teal - Poet, Philosopher and Shaman
|The snow was fun for the first week. The second week it started to piss me off. We get some snow in VA, but it doesn't usually linger. The last memory I have of blizzard conditions was the mid 90's. The giant mountain of dirty snow on my sidewalk is getting on my nerves. I want to go clean off the top layer of sand and dirt. At least the rain is melting it.
A few good things came out of it. One, I spent a lot of time playing games with my daughter, who was out of school for almost 2 weeks. Two, I scrubbed the walls and baseboards and decimated Mt. Laundrymore.
Three, the back patio awning collapsed. Now you'd think that would be a bad deal. But it was so old... (how old was it?) I really have no idea, but I have a sneaking suspicion it was original to the house. We're talking 1949. As far as porch coverings go, it was almost useless--buckled and bowed with holes where the rain dripped onto the furniture.
When we heard the CRASH-BOOM-THUD it shook the whole house. I assumed the fig tree (or worse, the 100 foot tulip poplar!) had fallen on the roof , so I freaked out. Imagine my surprise to find a 40 foot metal V hanging by one inch of metal on each side of the house. After 33 seconds of being sad and wondering how we were going to pay for it, I realized we could now put up anything we wanted.
You know, like the DECK I've been begging for.
Even better? We have insurance. Who knew a "vintage" metal awning cost so much to replace?
Dream big. The universe will provide.
|That's how long it's been since I added a blog entry. Why is that?
Life calls, ya know? I know I've been saying this for years, but the house really is getting smacked into shape. Slowly but surely as they say. The main obstacle to my progress seems to be ADD. Who knew? I'm never hyper, just unable to think logically about problems and work them in steps to the conclusion. Is this a personality issue or a medical issue? We'll find out. If the Adderall makes me speedy then I don't have ADD. But my gut tells me I do.
People seem to think I'm a pretty smart cookie, but I can't seem to accomplish anything. I'll start putting away the dishes and notice the cupboard has crumbs, so I clean it. Then remember the laundry. Instead of doing laundry, I'll notice the rug is dirty and go get the vacuum cleaner. Etc., etc. Everything gets started but nothing gets finished. Instead of blaming myself I'll try the meds. The worst thing that could happen is I clean the house in a whirlwind of excess energy. I'm all over it.
Eric hasn't been feeling well either and I'm really worried about him. His liver enzymes are elevated. I searched for information and then stopped when I kept seeing "advanced alcoholic liver disease". He won't go back for more tests. He knows the doctor will tell him to stop drinking. So I told him to increase his life insurance to the max. I'm not raising a child alone in poverty.
What can you do? I've tried the carrot, the stick, and the baseball bat, to no avail. He likes wine, beer, Scotch, and even moonshine. I suppose I had an inkling he drank too much, but it's gotton so much worse in the 8 years we've been married. I try not to blame myself. If he can't handle being a father and husband that's not my fault. He chose it; he has to deal with it.
Unfortunately Doodle and I have to deal with it too. Luckily he's only half drunk by Doodle's bedtime so he can get her ready for bed. But on the weekends--well let's say it sometimes feels like I married my Daddy. Thankfully I don't drink or there would be flying knickknacks and bloodshed.
I don't want Doodle to grow up like I did--cowering in my bedroom listening to arguing, waiting for the crash as one of my parents went flying into a piece of furniture. I will be long gone before I let that happen, and Eric knows it.
On the "I'm ecstatic" front, we have half the basement finished! Yay! All I have to do is throw down some cheap stick-on tiles and paint. Okay, we have to wait for new windows, but still--I can walk on that side without sneezing or itching or anything! Soon we'll have double the space and I can't wait to get back down there and start scrapping. It's been three years, so my embellishments are hopelessly out of date, but who cares? It's art, right? I've got more scrap crap than is decent, although my goodness I've seen some scrap rooms that make me want to smack those women for having too much money and too much time. I guess that's just jealousy, eh?
Hope to get back online and return some reviews this week. Wish me luck.
|some kid I don't know. But second place in the photography category goes to...Doodle Chi! Yay! Her masterpiece is a few blog entries down. She was excited for about two seconds, then moved on to Wacky Wednesday. Because dressing up as a ballerina to go to school is way cooler than a win with no ribbon.
Mommy got an award today, too!
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Am I blessed or what? To get an award for something you love to do? No better feeling in the world. Thanks to GabriellaR45 and all the Rising Stars. What an exceptional organization. I'm just proud to do my part and deeply humbled by the award.
The house is 3/4 organized; the garden is empty and ready to be mulched, and the back porch is cleaner than it's been since I moved in, thanks to Davy's superior organization skills. He managed to stack most of our stuff in the shed, which is obviously way bigger than it looks.
The basement is stalled at halfway, as his wife was sick last week (but not swine flu.) In fact, I don't know one person who's had it except maybe me. I was so sick with a respiratory illness in May that I thought I would die. Worst bout of cold/flu/whatever since the mid-90's. I looked at the CDC website and H1N1 was widespread this spring too, so here's hoping I'm immune. If not, I must be immune to every other damn flu because it feels like I've had all of them.
What's the good news on your front? Did you win an award? NaNo coming right along--almost done, eh? Or maybe you finally made a souffle that didn't fall. Celebrate every little accomplishment with the good china, flowers, and some romantic candles--because all we have is this day.
|Finally getting all the gunk up and out of my body. It helps to work on emotional issues at the same time. I firmly believe that in the same way crying and orgasms release emotions, so does the process of getting well. I am literally coughing up old hurts and dealing with them at the same time. I am so allergic to something in this house that my eyes are all rheumy. If it looks like I'm crying, maybe there's something I should be crying about?
I know it sounds like mumbo jumbo to a lot of you, but think of it this way--being sick gives you time to think about your life. What you're doing wrong, why you got sick in the first place, and how you can prevent it from happening again. That's inner work--learning to know yourself. Nothing magical about that.
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I wish the picture were larger, but this is Doodle's entry into the Beauty Is contest sponsored by the PTA. Forgot to take a picture of her collage. She had to write an "artistic statement" and this is what she said.
"Flowers are beauty. It looks like the Buddha is humming to nature."
Couldn't be more proud of my little witchling. Technically, Kuan Yin is a bodhisatva (sp?) and the first female representation of the Buddha, so she's not wrong even though any vaguely Asian statue is a Buddha to her, as well as statues of Mary, also a mother of compassion.
On the ohmygosh whatanidiot front, last night we got a quote for basement windows. Our dear clueless technician mentioned that there is no Santa Claus. I wanted to smack his bitch up. Eric tried to cover it up by making jokes about the Easter Bunny. Doodle was so funny--when the tech apologized she said, "That's okay, I'll forget what you said anyway."
Like mother like daughter?
October through December is just crazy around here, plus we've had guests every weekend, so I decided not to try Nano. Maybe March will be a better time.
If you're doing Nano, how's it going? Need encouragement?
Get your butt back to the (computer/notebook/crayon) and get to work! And by the way, you're doing a fantastic job!
|Before the hauntings and candy, before the chaos of rebuilding the basement ceiling this weekend, before I can even start working on Review Ghouls, there is the Reflections contest at Doodle's school. The theme is "Beauty..."
So Doodle is making a collage of pictures she's taken this fall. Hopefully she'll use up 1/2 a ton of the 18 tons of scrapbook materials that have been moldering in the basement. Hope the judges don't mind the smell of Lysol...
Of course this is after homework. Did you know first graders have an hour of homework every day? Twenty minutes of reading plus word study games and activities. Plus Mommy always has extra homework to reinforce what the little one learned in school. Because Mommy and Doodle both LOVE homework.
Mommy obviously needs to go back to college and get her own homework, eh?
It's not the homework we can't handle, it's all the extra-curricular activities. Drama and soccer class. School spirit day. Walk a thons, parades, food drives, book fairs. It never ends. But I want Doodle to be outgoing and friendly unlike her parents so we shlep her to any activity that sounds fun. When you're 7, everything is fun.
I try to remember, "That which does not kill you makes you stronger." And of course God doesn't give you more than you can handle. Which is probably where the early menopause came from.
How's your fall coming along? With all the rain, most of the leaves have fallen so the colors aren't that great this year. Always pretty though--must get to the country and check out nature's splendor before it's gone. Enjoy autumun's crisp glow friends!
|Everyone knows I'm not always the sharpest knife in the drawer. When the pressure's on, I'm likely to retreat into my shell if possible so I don't freak out and take the rest of the household with me.
So Miss Brainiac here scheduled workers to move stuff out of the basement in preparation for remodeling on the SAME DAY as Doodle's birthday party with her friends. As you know, I also forget stuff. LIke the three kinds of mold down there that keeps all of us sick.
So I'm running back and forth between projects. Hang up a skeleton, go through a tote. Put pizza in the oven, tell Davey where to start tearing down walls. All day long.
By Saturday evening I was coughing up a lung, and it dawned on me what I'd done. Dumbass. We even have masks downstairs from the last aborted attempt at remodeling, but of course who could find them in all that junk? Doodle was down there for literally 30 seconds until I made her go upstairs. She's coughing too.
And then it occured to me that our disgusting damp basement could be a serious contributor to her asthma and my thyroid disease. Being bombarded with funk everyday through the heating/cooling system will wear down even the healthiest person's immunity.
So in addition to the guilt, I have to fight with my husband. Now that he sees the DIRECT cause of this particular round of bronchitis, he can no longer hide from the issue. If we have to take out a loan to get 'er done, then so be it. My daughter's health is more important than money. Period.
I had planned to help Davey with the drywall and the ceiling, but I ain't that stupid. I saw what was behind the walls and I'm not going anywhere near them. In the meantime all I will do is make quick trips for laundry.
Oh yes, there are monsters in my basement. Invisible little suckers that hop into your lungs and steal your breath. And now I realize why so many of these old houses have been torn down--not necessarily because people need a bigger house, just a healthier one. Mold remediation is expensive. It would be easier to start over and build a new house, except we ain't got that type of money. And insurance won't pay because the water damage was an ongoing event. (We have a french drain now which helps.)
It's all so overwhelming. It has to be done quickly, but we can't afford to fix everything at once. Oh well, we've lived without using the basement for 10 years; one more won't kill us. But NOT getting it repaired might.
Have a spooky week, friends! And beware of the monsters in the basement!
|The swine flu vaccine issue has been weighing on my mind recently. I'm not quite sure whether to let my daughter be shot up against a really bad bug. We only do mandatory vaccinations because she had a really bad reaction to the whooping cough combo vaccine. It was scary seeing her vacant and lethargic as a baby. I was scared she'd never come out of it--for three days I questioned myself and the doctors who said to give her Tylenol and she'd be fine. She wasn't fine--she wasn't there at all. Obviously, we waited until she was older to get caught up.
But she also has asthma attacks when she gets sick, so she's at risk of hospitalization. Although, knock on wood, that hasn't happened since she was two and rolled in pile of moldy leaves when I wasn't looking. Since that day, when I ignored the doctors and took her to the ER, they listen to me and I listen to them. So I'm leaning toward the nasal spray, which hopefully she can get at school next week.
But there's another level to the issue--personal choice. It really pissed me off to see mandatory vaccinations for health care workers. I do understand how it benefits the community to have medical personnel healthy, but I also think informed choice is one of our civil liberties. And who, if not doctors and nurses, are most informed about vaccines? They're experienced professionals with access to information the layman doesn't have. I have the right to decide what goes in my body as an American and they should too. If nothing else, they've damn well earned it.
As far as what the pundits say: first, Bill Maher is evil. I agree with him a lot of the time, I just don't like his caustic delivery. (James Carville grates on my nerves, too, although I usually agree with him.)
Bill says anyone who gets the swine flu shot is an idiot. I say he's an idiot.
Jon Stewart (mi amore) intimates anyone who doesn't get the shot is an idiot. And I say, "I still love you, Jon!"
Jon put up the favorite pinata of the left, Glen Beck, as an example of the loony people who oppose vaccinations. Although it about tears out my guts to agree with Mr. Crocodile Tears himself, he's right about our rights to our own body. *gulp*
I say let everyone make up their own mind. You have the right to refuse it as a healthcare worker. You also have the right to take a month's vacation when the pig shit hits the fan and you catch Swine Flu. Your friends will be making double overtime. Who knows if they'll end up with Gullain-Bar in a few years?
No one knows. We have no idea if squalene and thimerosol cause Golf War Syndrome and autism, respectively. Or if the outbreaks will be milder than predicted. Or if it mutates into something worse.
Even my husband (who considers me the loonly left) isn't hip on the idea. If we decide against vaccination, we have no qualms about yanking Doodle out of school for a month if one case is confirmed. It's not like she'll fail first grade. On the other hand I'm immunocompromised too. If she gets sick, I'll get sick, and the household is out of commission for a month.
In the meantime we're taking our supplements and getting good sleep to keep our immune systems up.
I just don't know what to do, and it pisses me off that I have to make this choice.
|It seems like yesterday I was walking around the cul-de-sac trying to kick-start labor. Doodle wanted to stay inside where it was safe and warm, I guess. She's the only kid I've ever met who was 19 days late for her own birthday. Even the midwife thought I had "miscalculated". But Doodle was planned, so I wrote everything down real scientific-like. Feels weird to plot ovulation and intercourse on a spreadsheet, but that's what I did.
Yes, she's still late all the time. But that's more my fault than hers. She just turned seven, so how can I expect her to remember to grab her hat, coat, gloves, backback, shoes, AND homework in a timely manner? I can barely remember!
I took her to school this morning and delivered goody bags for the children. They are no longer allowed to do food, because some kids have allergies. She also has a gift for the class, Skippyjon Jones Lost in Spice, which I really wanted to read myself. (Love that little Siamese who thinks he's a Chihuahua!)
I'm going to surprise her and show up for lunch. Then when I pick her up from drama class I'll give her balloons, or flowers, or something. It's hard when she opened all her presents on Saturday. Mommy wasn't thinking, or she would have held one or two back.
Oh well, creativity counts for something!
Have a super-duper chocolate iced cupcake week with sprinkles on top!
|Nineteen days without a blog entry. What can I say? I'm busy, but not that busy. I was sick, but not that sick. Let's just say I had nothing to say. Nothing I'd want to say publicly, at least.
School is in high gear--it seems like there's always something going on--and I usually forget about it.
Eric wiped out my hard drive and I JUST got my files back, but I still don't have a good copy of PSE3--the older version won't read my files. So I can either stick with last year's Review Ghouls decorations or buy some new ones. Honestly, I'm totally unprepared this year.
I still have two birthday parties to plan for Doodle (one for family and friends this weekend and one for school buddies next weekend) and of course a party means lots of deep cleaning. I realized last time we had a Wii play date that six year olds do notice your house. One little boy said, "It looks like you live in the country." Part of that is the wood stove sitting on the fireplace surround---not attached with a pipe. So it's just in the way. The other part was the junk lying around everywhere--which is mostly gone. Baby steps to clearing the clutter.
Me? I'm doing well. Trying to keep healthy and take my bowlful of meds and supplements. Dr. Khine upped one of my anti-seizure meds and I was falling into walls yesterday, but hopefully I'll get used to it. The brain is a delicate instrument; it takes a while to recalibrate it correctly I guess.
The reason I'm having seizures? We still don't know that, and probably never will. Everything supposedly checks out, but of course I've heard that before. The next visit to the neurologist I'll have a ton of questions. Hope he has some answers.
Doodle and I did decorate the living room table. We also went to the apple orchard this weekend for pictures and pumpkins. I'll post a pic here shortly.
Have a healthy, happy, insanely fun week!
|Professor Jones stood behind the lecturn, reciting his spiel in a monotone voice. "This theory states that, around seven million years ago, humans descended from the trees. You can see in this next slide the gorilla wrist bones compared to human wrist bones. Both have fused bones, but the gorilla's are longer, straighter, and less flexible. This turns conventional theories upside down. We may have knuckle-walked at some point, but chimps, and supposedly, humans, did it in a very different way than the great apes. The wrists bend easily. And more flexibility gave us the advantage in hand over hand motoring up in the trees." Professor Jones strutted to the back of the classroom to check the slides, his long gray ponytail swinging back and forth.
Jessica yawned and slapped a hand to her mouth. Must stay awake. I have to pass this stupid class or I'll never get my zoology degree.
She stifled another yawn as the professor returned to the podium. "Miss Jessica, late night? Would you like to tell the class the benefits of bipedalism for our ancient ancestors?"
Jessica mulled the question and realized she had zoned out in last week's classes as well. "No. But I'll give you my honest opinon."
"Please. We're all dying to know your deep thoughts on the subject."
Jessica cleared her throat and sang: "I'm no kin to the monkey, the monkey's no kin to me. I don't know much about your ancestors, but mine didn't swing from a tree."
Professor Jones smiled. The anthropology class at Oral Roberts University broke out in laughter.
Note: Oral Roberts is a Christian University, if you didn't catch that.
|Last Wed was Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders Awareness Day.
"Yet, almost 30 years after the U.S. surgeon general began warning women about alcohol-related brain damage, the disorder is still not as widely recognized as autism, epilepsy or other developmental disorders.
"It's frustrating," said Kathy Mitchell, of the National Organization on Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (NOFAS). "Many physicians and health clinics still do not screen women for alcohol use, do not educate them on the hazards of drinking while pregnant and do not recognize FASD in their patients."
You're damn right it's frustrating. I'm slowy coming to terms with how deeply this brain damage goes...and I'm still embarassed. A stroke victim wouldn't apologize for falling into a table, but when you say something stupid or forget an appointment, there's no socially acceptable excuse for someone with no obvious disability. The truth would have the person assume I'm retarded.
I'm obviously not, although I do stupid shit all the time.
The next time someone says: "Are you drunk?"
I'll just say, "No, but my mother was."
I'm also ashamed to admit I drank when pregnant myself! (At a wine tasting.)
I was told a glass of wine a week was fine and dandy, and yet the truth is that no one knows for sure. During crucial developmental steps, no amount is safe for a fetus.
However, I won't begrudge a woman a glass of wine. I will bitch slap any alcoholic who claims they didn't know the dangers when their child is born with FASD. Check your pregnant ass into rehab.
Yeah, I'm still bitter. Blame it on the Rhine wine.
|Since Halloween is on a Saturday this year, I've scheduled "Invalid Item" } for the Friday before, October 23th. I'd rather not spend a Saturday sitting at this computer.
Although I love you all dearly, of course.
Consider yourself notified and mark your calendars. This year's contest will be bigger, badder, and more boo-tiful! Let's see--I've been a witch, a bitch, and a country bumpkin. What other aspects of my personality remain unexplored? Taking suggestions...
|Just wanted everyone to know I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.
Just really busy getting the house and gardens back in order, and attempting to get Doodle ready for school. She's learned some bad habits while I was sick and it's been hell trying to reinforce good ones.
Otherwise, I feel great. Not just great--fan-flippin-tastic.
Amazing what massive doses of Vitamin B12 will do. Even Eric has starting taking it since he saw how much energy I've had lately. I'm so proud of myself for being organized and efficient. I used to think my sister must be on cocaine, as much as she runs around from activity to activity. But I've learned I can be just as on top of things.
Honestly, I haven't felt this alive in 20 years. Colors are brighter, my mind is much sharper, and I can remember things. Not just five minutes ago, either. There's a very strange effect where memories from childhood just pop into my head. Stuff I had completely forgotten about. It's a surreal feeling--almost like my mind is throwing out memories in preparation for meeting my maker. Except I ain't goin' nowhere no time soon, durn it!
Guess my poor beleaguered cells were starved for energy. Amazing how the body keeps going even when it's deprived of the correct fuel, eh?
To celebrate, we're going to the beach for a few days. I haven't been kissed by the ocean in 3 years--we've been going to the lake so Doodle can actually swim in the water. I'm not so hip on swimming in the ocean myself, but love to watch the waves curl and the sun and moon glint on the surface. I step in and connect with the awesome power of the life force, then promptly sit down, dig my toes in the sand and watch the world go by.
Life. Is. Good.
I think it's going to be an awesome fall and winter. Excited to get back into reviewing for the Rising Stars, and I've a notebook full of ideas to bring to life. But first things first--an essay on B12. I could write a book...
Hope you're all enjoying the last golden days of summer (or fall!). Get out there and absorb some sunshine and Vitamin D!
|I went outside to see the space shuttle shuttling by this week, and nothing. Too many clouds in the sky to see anything.
Invariably, when I really want to see some etheric phenomenon, the clouds obscure my view. The alarm will awaken me at some ungodly hour like 4 am. I trudge into the kitchen and weave a spell to the great Goddess Java, bundle up in my snuggly-wuggly bankie, and schlepp outside to await An Historic Moment. Ninety-six point eight percent of the time I'll get a big ole slice of cumulus for my troubles. Then, of course, sleep has left the building. I'm left to surf or read quietly until the fam wakes up.
I once went all the way to Gernsey Island, UK, in 1999 to see the solar eclipse. I ate scones and clotted cream, hung out on the (ice-cold) beach, rode a horse, and tried in vain to spend all my money shopping at quaint little stores.
But I didn't see no eclipse. My friends and I walked a few hundred yards through the sea to climb upon a huge rock and await the Big Event. No special glasses needed to see a sky full of clouds. It was light, then it was dark, then it was light. Then it was over. *yawn*
But I was there, man, and I have the commemorative plate from a kitschy little shop to prove it.
|The lake was lovely. Each cove and island we pulled up on was deserted. I would guess people are hard pressed to afford boats in this economy, except that we barely found one to rent. So where all the people were, no idea. It's a darn big lake, though. (Smith Mountain)
Please bear with me; my communication skills are still lax and I'm not going to edit this more than 18 times.
The lake was high this year, barely any beach. But most had lovely golden waves of mica flowing on the sand. The rocky beaches were nice, too--lots of "treasures". I even found a broken arrowhead and a nice chunky biface. Probably washed up from the deep, since we were close to the dam. I guarantee there were Indian settlements at the pass through the mountains where they placed the damn dam. That end of the lake is totally spooky, like people long dead are watching you.
It rained three days, but we had a great time catching up and remembering old times. Well, my friends remembered, but I still laughed along.
On the health front, the migraine finally went away after 32 days. I'm guessing it took that long for my body to realize I was no longer eating wheat. On day 6 I was about to blow my brains out, but it diminished each day and finally left. Then the seizures started in earnest. Yeah, how cool is that? I've been having small seizures I assumed were muscle cramps in my neck and arms from my herniated disc. Once the allergic reactions stopped I could see the pattern, the chicken scratch and transposing letters from my hands seizing, heavy in the head and feeling in another universe, and the leg twitching making me fall around. Eric witnessed the worst one and I made him write it down because I knew I'd forget it. I remember being unable to let go of my reading glasses (those retro circle-bespattered stylishly slim and uber portable lenses which are totally normal for 43, thankyouverymuch!) and shocks down my forearms and that's it. Eric made me lie down, he said my fingers and toes turned blue. I slept for four hours.
Good times, good times.
It's no damn wonder I can't remember shit. I blank out for a few seconds dozens, if not hundreds of times a day. Now, the hard part--figuring out why. Did I have a small stroke? Epilepsy? Cancer? Brain tumor? Gluten encephalopathy?
I found a new neurologist who's on the case like Sherlock Holmes. He has me scheduled for a bunch more tests including a three day EEG. Thank God I found a doctor who's taking me seriously. Can't wait to finish the letter to my old neuro who was about as useless as tits on a boar hog. I told her about the time God grabbed me by the neck and slammed me on the couch and she called it a migraine. I told her I had a lightning rod up my ass and she scratched her head.
Hey, bitch, it IS all in my head. And it ain't spelled h-y-p-o-c-h-o-n-d-r-i-a either.
Hey, God, I think the third time I got the message. Please stay away from my throat. Thank you, Amen.
Three steps forward, two steps back, but I'm trying to stay light on my feet. Even if I do fall into walls constantly and can't finish a sentence. I feel like an Alzheimer's patient with ADD. Think about that for a minute and feel the contrast twist your brain into a pretzel.
That's my life.
But you know what? It could be so much worse! I'm thankful it's just a wiring issue and not a life-threatening disease. If I have to make lists, so be it. If I need a timer, calender, and voice recorder, so be it. If people don't understand why I act like a drunk even though I don't drink, they can kiss my voluminous white ass.
I'm not going to hide in my house anymore because I'm embarrassed I can't speak clearly. I'll just explain I have a nerve disorder. They don't need to know any more than that, because I don't know.
Except I have a suspicion it's frontal lobe epilepsy, in hindsight. It fits with my past experiences and childhood. So far, the actual attacks are mild. It's the memory loss that hurts most. I want to write, I have so many great ideas, but it takes so long to get out a sentence. The coping skills to compensate for cognitive deficits I've carved out over the years are no longer enough to get me through the day. My obsession with editing isn't the character flaw signaling procrastination/perfectionism I thought it was, so much as a way to cover up the fact that I can't think clearly the first time. It takes time and effort to make something flow coherently--people don't seem to believe that. I don't edit because I hate typos (although poor grammar makes me cringe) but because my ideas come out convoluted and unclear.
I had a hell of a time with Leger's 15 minute challenge. Thinking the idea through took most of the day, nevermind the day I wrote the whole thing in my head and memorized it. Stick a fork in me; I'm done. It was then I knew my brain was soggy. I used to memorize entire passages of books in 5 minutes. It took 2 hours to write this post.
Denial. It ain't a river in Egypt, people.
I do so thank my friends for all the kind words. I swear I'll work on replying to each of you this week. It's on the list.
|It feels like an epidemic, all the long timers resigning from the newsletter editor staff. You can add a newtimer to the list.
I love writing the editorials, but my health is mixed at best. Instead of feeling stressed as the deadline approaches, I'll be free to heal and put the puzzle pieces of a fractured existence together into something resembling a quality life. I'm sure whoever ends up taking the position will do a fabulous job.
In other words, I'm tuning in and dropping out, to butcher a retro expression. If you email me or review me it may take a while for me to get back to you.
Stay cool and dry in these late spring storms, and be blessed!
|Just a note to let my friends know I won't be around much this summer. I have a few issues to take care of, and WDC steals too much of my time. I've cut back to the absolute basics.
Take care and enjoy the sun, sand and waves.
|I had the worst week ever! We ran around all week with several appointments and duties. As a result, I got sick, but worked at the Mayfest at the bean bag toss booth. I won't get into it, but learned a few hard lessons about myself and how I interact with children and adults.
We stayed up until 10 decorating the cake. Doodle did a fantastic job with the fondant leaves, but they didn't set up in time so we stuck peony leaves in the top of a cereal straw and called it a tree. The icing slid off the rainbow, the hanging monkey kept pulling the banana tree over, and hubby cracked the rainbow in half, but it stayed sorta upright. Our digital is broken or I'd show a picture. The fondant bananas were awesome, but only half the Whoppers made it under the coconut tree because they were entirely too delicious.
Doodle cried when she realized the plastic monkey, giraffe, and Flounder would go to the winner of the cake. But that's okay, because she won FIRST place in the Jungle division! It was obvious a kindergartner made that cake, and I couldn't be more proud.
I was exhausted and didn't feel like going out so we had takeout Italian for dinner. And Doodle won a cake in the cakewalk so there was my birthday cake. Finally, by Sunday I had recovered enough to whip my slave (Eric) into doing all the stuff I'd been bugging him about for months. So the house is getting more organized.
I still don't have a computer, but I managed to sketch out a short story on his. But I'm anxious to get to my pictures, because my neice is graduating from high school and I stared a tradition of making each one a scrapbook. Busy, busy, busy, but I'm glad to have a few "special projects".
I'll be around to review Quotation Inspiration and Rising Stars, and then we're taking another mini vacation to save my sanity. Although Six Flags doesn't sound too relaxing, does it?
Have a great week, everyone! If you can read this, thank a teacher for Teacher Appreciation Week!