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Sunflower's Blog |
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I am Sunflower, and this is my blog--for what it's worth. The philosophical beachbum journals to public. |
| Mom's 83rd birthday was yesterday. When she was 79, I threw her a surprise party at a cafeteria. Glad I did it then, because her health isn't up to it now--plus several of her friends have passed on. Just a quiet celebration that needs to last all week. When you reach a certain age, every day is a day to celebrate! |
| Former Isreali Prime Minister (1996-1999) was scheduled at a meeting in a London hotel above one of the subway stations which was bombed. Inteligencia astounds, on both sides. |
| I'd been in bed for about 36 hours with a migraine. It's always difficult to wake up and get into the swing of things after a multi-day headache. When I saw on the noon news that there had been a series of major bombings in London, it was even more difficult to come to realization of a new day. I was wishing I were still asleep, and that things that had happened were just a bad dream. I feel knocked flat, like the wind has been knocked out of me. But this has nothing to do with me, except as another resident of earth. The sisterhood between Americans and the British goes back far beyond my memories of the "British Invasion." More importantly were the unions of World War I and World War II. The dissection of just over two hundred years ago doesn't matter much, except in the history books. Americans, mostly, are of British stock, European stock. As much as the people, are the ideas that we hold. . . the things we view as important, things we are willing to fight for. Tony Blair and President George Bush have spent time together at the Crawford Ranch, as well as the White House, and in the UK. That these two gentlemen should be in meeting with six other countries' representatives regarding the tragic situation that is day-to-day life in Africa, is no coincidence. Terrorists will jump on the bandwagons we build. That doesn't mean we need to stop any celebrations. We don't need to stop reaching for those we all can help. But once again, we are reminded that this century houses a mankind that is divided. The division will continue unless we stand for our freedoms, use them properly, and support those who have the best interests of the planet in their hearts. Hating will not heal this divide. Hating people we don't even know won't make peace. We have to work past the hate of others, build on our similarites, and lap like a wave at the insidious evil of the terrorists. Positive actions must eventually obliterate the evil of terroism. As "they" throw destructions at us, may we somewhow find the love of "The One" in our hearts. The beginning of the book A Course in Miracles says "The opposite of fear is love." The opposite of love is fear, but there is no comprehension of the void that is lack of love. I pray for those who have lost loved ones, and those who have been injured, as well as for all those souls who will again find fear at the forefront of their lives. There will be peace, and only peaceful actions and reactions will insure that. |
| Histoplasmosis is not a good thing. It's a health thing. It's a fungus that gets in the lungs, the spreads to the rest of the body. It's a thing my older cousin has in his lungs, lymph nodes, and beyond. I expect he's going to die from it. He should have been treated long ago. The past can't be changed. Johnny lives in a smaller town in Texas. He's been so good all his life about taking himself and his wife to the doctor to take care of problems. It seems that this one got by the medical professionals. Or, perhaps, at some point one has to say that what happens on earth is God's will. I'm only able to write this unemotionally because I feel somewhat detached from the situation. Mom grew up with Johnny, not me. He's been the older cousin that was always Mom's favorite cousin. The used to double car date in the late 1930s. They've shared all their lives. I'm the grown up kid. There was a cousin my age, Terri, who died, suicide, about 10 years ago. Such sadness. After researching some articles on the dogpile search engine, I found out more than I really wanted to know. Johnny is pretty much bedridden from lack of strength and not being able to breathe, but he wanted me to send him some info. It's a major task for him to take in air to absorb oxygen. I almost have that apsrin commerical memorized. "The right atrium's where the process begins, when the CO2 blood enters the heart. . . ." His liver and spleen are most likely to stop working as the fungus penetrates all organs of his body. He will begin falling further away from us. So far he's taken pain med by mouth, but I don't know how much that can help, with an open throat lesion. He doesn't want to "leave drugged," I know. He wants to know, until he doesn't need to. It may turn into another kind of matter, well, later on. So histoplasmosis is a fungus. It gets into a person's body from the ground/air. The fungus is carried in the feces from bats and chickens, and is more prevelent in the Midwest. One begins to get the symptoms of a summer cold within 3-17 days of exposure. The doctors just told him he had a cold. Now he gets shaking shivers, and pneumonia is setting in. He's in a hosptial about an 8 hour drive away. I told mom I'd drive us there, but she wants to save me for her support during the funeral. It's so difficult to know how to help different people, as so may are effected by just one person, 'ya know? His wife, and other daughter with MS aren't in good health either. The doctor didn't catch the histoplasmosis, or treat it, because they were working with Johnny's many heart problems. Johnny is in his 70s. The research indicates this illness will be terminal. The research in the vet arena says most animals with this are euthanised. I have vet tech training and education from a few years back. It's good to know medicine for yourself. First, my mom asked me to print up some research info, because she relies on me for computer skills. There was a picture and article that won't get into the family info, but I'll share in writing--this needs to be an article, less personal for best reading. Johnny has an ulcer/lesion in his throat. I saw a picture of a tongue with this problem. It was black at the back on the tongue, working on down the throat one way, and towards the tip of the tongue the other way. My father's feet turned black the last days before he died. Still blood and dead tissue turns black. It's not pretty. I can't image what it would feel like, except that one's body would sure be seeking relief, that may only be found spiritually. I pray for him, and would you say a little prayer for him too. Just for Johnny P. I'll organize an article, because this is stuff most people don't know--or I didn't before this. Write on. Pray on. Peace out. |
| With the resignation of Justice Sandra Day O'Conner, opens the gate for the Republican majority to transform the spirit of the nation as we enter the Twenty-First Centrury. By self-admission, I am a liberal. I believe that women ought to have final say over what happens with their bodies and procreation. I think marajuana ought to be legalized. I believe that one person can make a difference. My views are my own, developed through my conscience. I fear that the court will be packed with ultra conservatives, with much older people who don't have a grasp of where the nation stands in its conscience. That Justice Clarence Thomas, Mr. Pubic hair in the Coke joke, often rules on my side gives me little consolation. If one divided those living into four generations, it is true that the eldest may be the wisest, and have had the most world experiences in forming what is considered wisdom. Wisdom, as truth, is different in different people's eyes. It is the purpose of the Supreme Court to decide upon the actual law's application, and enforce what laws have been written already and accepted to date. With the outbreak of radical conservative religious zealots, I fear that my morals won't be in line with the law. Now, I'm just left of center, I feel radical left-wing will become my label. I fear that my conscience won't adhere to the laws of the land, worse than already. With two projected seats for President Bush to fill before the year, the power over years and years into the future is in his hands, and the hands of those who will support or reject his nominees. Do we have a new representative in the United Nations yet? We don't need a hot-head there. I don't trust Ashcroft or Rumsfeld. When Colin Powell left the political arena, I lost respect for what the President is doing, and why he does it. As with the Vietnam replay, I fear a Nixon replay at hand--if the public pays attention and speaks up. But, God Bless American, anyhow--the best nation in the world! Happy Independence Day! Watch Bono fight AIDS and poverty in Africa, tonight on ABC--what a concert! |
| First of all, yes, I know that they are a vanity publishing outfit, and may be one of those poetry publishing games you really don't want to get involved in. What I share is for sharing. There is a positive and negative side, and I realize the negative outweighs. Hence my positive is mostly personal. I went to the Famous Poet's Society 10th Annual Convention in Reno over Labor Day Weekend last year. It was my first poetry convention experience. For what is was, it was okay. I expected publishers, and there were none. However, there was a televsion taping on many individuals, myself included, reading their poem. It's suppose to be on some show out of Las Vegas. Never saw it, but I do have a videotape of my part. Met people from all over. Had an interesting session or two of workshhop info and poet participation. Liked the Reno Hilto too. I asked to be on the 27th (top) floor again. Great view of the mountains. No mountains in Dallas. So I've made my reservation to leave Dallas Friday, September 2nd, and return on Tuesday, September 6th. There's gambling in Reno, and I found a friendly machine at Harrah's last year. There's a slot machine museum in a restaurant that I didn't get too last year. There's entertainment there and in Tahoe, but I don't know about a drive like that. Slots machines. . . . Last year, I took no jacket. I live in Texas, and you NEVER need a jacket because Labor Day weather is cool--NEVER! I almost froze in Reno before I invested in a little bicolor velour jacket, that says "Reno," of course. I love to travel, but don't have the opportunity very often. I feel very homebound to assist my mother. I just would like five days off. I have air fare tickets to trade in that I didn't use before-- when I didn't go to the Poetry.com Convention in Florida in January. I hope the air fare works out as already paid. It's about the same price from Dallas, I think. I don't have to buy any new clothes. I already have a new turquoise evening dress to wear to the "Shakespeare Banguet" Sunday evening. I can make do. Money is tight for this trip. This year is set up differently. What I enjoyed most last year was when Leslie Neilson recited "The Raven," some Kipling, and about 45 minutes of great voice, well spent. Angrily? No, Natica and Richard Angilly? Does anybody know about "Angilly?" Theatrical poetry it says. Why not? It would be a nice break from the daily grind. |
| Too tired and fed up to go to the store last night for smokes. I have a tooth infection that smoking isn't helping. So I haven't had a smoke since midnight last night. Almost 10 pm, now. That's 22 hours, and my head has hurt for each and every hour I've been away from cigarettes. Short entry this time. Going to bed soon. I've never smoked in my sleep. It's easier not to smoke when sleeping. Best intentions, and enough determination, this shall be the time I quit. I can already hear myself, "No it's been 4 years." I'm not going to count, like it's an AA situation. I just don't smoke today. It's only today I have to worry about, and I'm going to sleep soon. Wish me luck, especially daytimes! |
| After weeks of hot weather, and ignoring the aroma of dogs coming in from the yard, I decided it was time for the soap and water treatment. I spied fleas on both of the dogs yesterday. They are easier to find on the blonde Lab than they are on the predominately-black Shepherd. I have a sad black animal story, sad and true. If it passes important information to the reader, I’ll feel better for my shortcomings. One summer, many moons ago, I resided in an apartment complex by a creek, with a long haired totally black cat named “Salem.” She was so beautiful. I had her shaved for summer, leaving the mane and tail hair long. Longhaired cats can drive themselves crazy grooming. She loved to jump from the second floor balcony and wander in the brush with the critters around the creek. I had raccoons in my apartment, scavenging leftover peanuts one night. That's another story. I was working as a sales clerk in a pet store at the time, and was submerged in animal life 24 hours a day. As "Salem's" hair grew out during the heat of summer, I noted she was scratching a lot. All the animals I saw were scratching. I didn't think of investigating more thoroughly. I figured it was just part of the season. "Salem" began hanging out in corners, behind furniture, where I couldn't reach her. I watched from across the room all summer. Eventually, “Salem” stopped eating, and was limp as a noodle when I did pick her up. I called the vet. It's difficult when you live so close to your income that you don't have the $40 to $70 bucks that a trip to the vet usually costs. Vets have the extensive training of a medical doctor, and all sorts of tests for diagnosis. However, when the vet uses his expertise to help a pet, the pet's owner can't help but be shocked by the expense. X-rays cost money. bags of lactated ringers, administered IV with the line running across a bowl of ice to cool it, was a very expensive option that might not bring "Salem" around. As memory serves, around $250 was the least expensive option for treating "Salem's" lingering state. Actually, putting her to sleep was the least expensive option, and the one I took. It's not a lack of caring, it's a lack of money. Society and veterinarians have considerable leeway as to when an injection to end a life it the thing to do. There’s a mixture of money, ethics, and practicality involved. "Salem" was too far gone when I got her to the vet. That was not the doctor's exact words. It was more like "This animal is being eaten alive by fleas." He pointed to the fleas, excrement, and bloody matter he pulled from the comb he had used on “Salem.” I was aghast. My memory moves in a slow motion haze after that. My mom and stepfather had gone with me to the veterinary clinic. I was glad to have their moral support. I attribute my negligence to a bipolar symptom that has to do with my concept of the passage of time. I can't recollect fully the last time I did certain things. I guess that's another story too. I had not fully brushed, and combed “Salem” with a flea comb, since she had been shaved in spring. The hair grew in, but I never brushed her right, paying attention to her skin condition. I know I picked her up and held her some, but I didn’t see the fleas in the black hair. It’s difficult to see fleas on black hair, and dark skin in some cases. After the passing of “Salem,” and noticing dark areas of dried blood on the carpet where she had laid, I swore not to get another black cat. I wouldn't let myself have a dark colored animal, because my lack of care had caused one to die. I'll never get over the guilt of "Salem's" passing with the fleas. My two cats are white and gray. My Lab/Shepher mix, named "Big Bad John," is an 85 pound blonde. "Shadow" is a German Shepherd I picked out from the litter. She was six months old when I got her. Two of my friends went with me to the house with the two full blooded German Shepherd parents, and their puppies for sale that September. The parents names were "Lucy" and "Ricky," with some more official name on their American Kennel Club papers. The entire litter lived in "Lucy's" fist birthing of fourteen puppies. There must have been a lot of competition for dinner. Only three males and two females remained with their parents. One , the owner pointed out, was reserved by a police officer, to take in to police dog school. The man had played with the dogs. They could fetch, and he had worked to know each individual dog's personality. I selected a female, as I already had "Big Bad John." I wanted a female, and I wanted to have puppies. "John" was already fixed, but I invisioned lots of puppies in my future. Since she didn't answer to "Isla" (the German character in Casablanca"), she came to be known as "Shadow," because that's what she always is to "John." "Shadow" also indicates that there's a good deal of black fur on her. Only her cheeks, chest and the underside of her tail is brown, tan, or white. She's mostly black. I saw a flea on "Big Bad John's" muzzle last night. When I looked on "Shadow's" belly, there crawled one flea. Today I ordered "advanticks" online, so within a few days, the majic of modern medicine will zap all the fleas off their big bodies. "John" loved his patio bath this afternoon, once he got wet. The bigger one is drying. I treat "Shadow" like such a frail little princess that when she whines a hurt sound, I immediatly stop what I'm going. She whined, and paced at the edge of the leash, then she wriggled out of her collar, twice. So I'm taking a break now. She will be clean before the sun goes down. Last summer, I remember giving her a bath in the tub--with me in the tub holding her. Seems like she enjoyed it, once she got over experiencing wet. So, shampoo the furry, Suds up the sleek, Mama's gonna wash you So you might as well be meek. |
| Traveling around town doing errands really takes life out of me. My car is air-conditioned, but I drive with the windows part way down if I'm smoking. Today it was too hot to smoke in the car. I needed the A/C worse than the nicotine. I've lived in smaller towns, one where you could get anywhere in 15 minutes. That was in Corpus Christi. Austin taffic has mushroomed since I lived there. I wouldn't want to compare Dallas traffic with Houston traffic, because I haven't driven regularly in Houston for fifteen years. It was bad then. The freeways are all different in Houston now, which would be disconcerting since I don't have a very good sense of direction. Not planning to travel to Houston anytime soon. Dallas traffic is bad enough. I don't regularly commute to a job anymore, and I'm spoiled about traffic. I do my driving during the day when the kids are in school--so summer is messed up that way. You can't get much help in traffic from the summer schoolers. Freeway backups leave me close to a panic attack. There's nothing you can do but sit there and watch your gas gauge go. People drive so crazy too--like they're the fire truck on the way to the fire. Just a trip to get my hair cut got me rattled today. My 3:30 got moved up to 3:00, but I didn't get there till 3:15. Caught my hairdresser giving himself a manicure. I think I got there in fifteen minutes, almost a record, going on 635/LBJ because the westbound traffic on the section I travel, everybody is already going 60-70 mph. I hat getting on that ramp, but the traffic moves fast. It took almost 45 minutes to get back home, leaving the shop at 4:15. I was going to Petsmart, but got to my exit and headed home instead. The five o'clock traffic had begun. That is an animal I prefer not to tangle with. I'll get back out later, when the sun is down, and the crazies have made it home from work. I've been saying that for days, and the critters are almost out of food. That won't do. The gas prices ranged for $2.03 in my neighborhood, up to $2.10 that I saw at a convenience store close the the freeway. Glad my car isn't a guzzler. I know lots of areas are paying more than we are. This season has not been normal, and I can't find my summer relax mode. I like to get a kid pool from Walmart--the kind that's 8 feet across and about a foot and a half deep. I fill up the pool, turn on the radio, blow up a float, get in, close my eyes, and float in all sorts of exotic puddles of the world. Imagination can take you anywhere. But I haven't bought my pool or float yet. Something to do after the sun goes down. I guess the greates thing about home is getting back to it after the hunting and gathering. Float on! |
| Traveling around town doing errands really takes life out of me. My car is air-conditioned, but I drive with the windows part way down if I'm smoking. Today it was too hot to smoke in the car. I needed the A/C worse than the nicotine. I've lived in smaller towns, one where you could get anywhere in 15 minutes. That was in Corpus Christi. Austin traffic has mushroomed since I lived there. I wouldn't want to compare Dallas traffic with Houston traffic, because I haven't driven regularly in Houston for fifteen years. It was bad then. The freeways are all different in Houston now, which would be disconcerting since I don't have a very good sense of direction. Not planning to travel to Houston anytime soon. Dallas traffic is bad enough. I don't regularly commute to a job anymore, and I'm spoiled about traffic. I do my driving during the day when the kids are in school--so summer is messed up that way. You can't get much help in traffic from the summer schoolers. Freeway backups leave me close to a panic attack. There's nothing you can do but sit there and watch your gas gauge go. People drive so crazy too--like they're the fire truck on the way to the fire. Just a trip to get my hair cut got me rattled today. My 3:30 got moved up to 3:00, but I didn't get there till 3:15. Caught my hairdresser giving himself a manicure. I think I got there in fifteen minutes, almost a record, going on 635/LBJ because the westbound traffic on the section I travel, everybody is already going 60-70 mph. I hate getting on that ramp, but the traffic moves fast. It took almost 45 minutes to get back home, leaving the shop at 4:15. I was going to Petsmart, but got to my exit and headed home instead. The five o'clock traffic had begun. That is an animal I prefer not to tangle with. I'll get back out later, when the sun is down, and the crazies have made it home from work. I've been saying that for days, and the critters are almost out of food. That won't do. The gas prices ranged for $2.03 in my neighborhood, up to $2.10 that I saw at a convenience store close the the freeway. Glad my car isn't a guzzler. I know lots of areas are paying more than we are. This season has not been normal, and I can't find my summer relax mode. I like to get a kid pool from Walmart--the kind that's 8 feet across and about a foot and a half deep. I fill up the pool, turn on the radio, blow up a float, get in, close my eyes, and float in all sorts of exotic puddles of the world. Imagination can take you anywhere. But I haven't bought my pool or float yet. Something to do after the sun goes down. I guess the greatest thing about home is getting back to it after the hunting and gathering. Float on! |
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