hey, over here...i'm over here!

not to worry about the inactivity of my journal this past weekend.  i went to visit a dear friend, greta.  now, i am visiting my guy.  he comes to see me almost every weekend, driving about 2 hrs one way and never complains.  i go visit him at his place maybe 4 or 5 times a year, and stay for a week or so each time.

even tho i rested lots while i was at greta's, it was still more activity than usual for me and so i would check my mail, leave a few comments for russ, and then hit the sack.  today i drove to my guy's, which meant that i was extremely tired upon arrival (he's about 3 hrs from greta's new place) and so we napped.  i'll be visiting with him for the better part of a week, my landlords are furrbee feeding and sassyfron sitting.

anyway, there will probably be a glut of scanned debra-doodles when i arrive home.  but since i have no scanner avail to me here, at His's place, i'll just be posting text from time to time.  have no worries, i'm not stuck in the hospital or passed out unattended in my home.

momMAH, it hurtz mee

i've been on a bagel kick.  and i love hot, spicy stuff.  i bought a jar of jalapeno slices last week and it is mostly gone.  last night i made a bagel, spread some veggie-cream cheese on it and placed a few jalapeno slices on it and chomped it down.  it was so good.  a pepper slice fell off and saffron stuck her nose on it really fast, before i could get it.  she jerked her head back and shook it really hard a few times and then licked her nose.  which was probably a mistake cuz then she stuck her tongue out and looked at me.  so pitiful and reproachful.  poor thing.

Wrong Number

"Hey baby!  I love you!"

"..."

"hello?"

(clearing throat) "uhm, yeah, hello?"

"oohps," giggles at self and situation, "i got the wrong guy, sorry for calling you so late, and sorry for uhm, anyway sorry.  b'bye!"

~~~~~~~a few minutes later~~~~~

"hello babe, I just told a strange man that I love him"

Chuckling, my guy replied, "you probably have a new friend now."

my shaddow lane

 

Whichun?

I can never keep them straight, on is Pete T and the other is Trip P.  Two peas in a pod, those two.  sigh.

Falling Up

Those of you that are long-time readers may remember when I did a lovely swan-dive off the concrete steps, landing on the stone embedded concrete slabs beneath.  Oh what fun!  What grace!  What the hell was I thinking?  Lest you think I indulge in such frivolous activities on a regular basis, let me assure you that although I am a klutz, I usually take extra caution around very dangerous surfaces.  Like concrete.  Embedded with stones.

This evening, I had a standing ovation as I fell up the concrete steps and slid back down, bouncing off the stone-embedded concrete slabs below.  The reason I bounced?  I am a bouncy sorta gal, which is a nice way of saying i got extra junk in more than my trunk.  I do not, however, have extra junk on my kneecap, as I was reminded earlier.

From whence came the standing ovation?  My Shaddow, Ziggee, and some friend of their's that has taken to playing, running, sleeping (in short, living) with them gave me extra special standing ovations.  By special standing ovation, I mean that they were on all fours.  By extra special standing ovations, I mean that they rushed over to lick me, which means that they really really like me.

At least that's what I think giving tongue means.

gracious gratitude

Below is a modified version of a letter that I sent via eMail to a long-time friend.  We've known each other over 25 yrs.  She and I haven't seen each other in years, but we do write each other and keep up with each other's lives.

There are things that this post covers that I thought might be appropriate for journals.

It doesn't matter about how long it takes for anyone to reply or send stuff to me, cuz life gets busy, it's like that.  Being with my guy has taught me some patience, because i know how busy school is first hand, but i also see what he is going thru.  i see how my friend handled pregnancy, birth, newborn, breast-feeding, older children, etc. etc. etc.  i know first hand how unpredictable i can be, and how others are dealing with health issues and such.  so i have learned a whole other appreciation for the variety in how folks respond and cope with life in general, cuz i understand that it isn't always a level-playing field, or a great hand, or whatever allegory you wanna use.  so i don't mind lots that i used to, cuz i appreciate folks efforts in a different way than i used to.

i wouldn't trade what i have for something else, cuz everything comes with complications and it's not something that i do much anymore.  sometimes when it seems to me that i am whining or complaining, i know that maybe i just need to vent, and other times i am overly sensitive and am monitoring myself so much so that i think i am driving others crazy when i am not bothering them at all.  i can handle most of whatever comes my way, cuz there are always options to weigh.  like the unrelenting heat we've been having, i know that my trailer gets too dangerously hot and stuff to be in at times, so i know that i can go hang out at the library, or lj's (where they understand that i don't always have money, so they let me get water on the days i can't afford $2.00 for tea and a free refill), and there are always other things for me to do.  If i absolutely have no gas in the car, there maybe some in my lawnmower's gas can.  if i forget to let my guy know i am low on money (cuz he almost always gives me something on the weekend for that week, even if it is only five bucks), i know that there is nothing i need so urgently that i will not make it thru.

since it is me, and my furrbees, but no children and no other dependents, i don't mind somuch.  i have clothes, some of them don't fit very well (but there are always enough) and again there are options like the thrift store, dollar store, walmart sales, clothing giveaways, and truth be told, i don't need all that much.  i have enough and i take care of what i have.  i have enough food.  i am always stocked on beans, rice, and pasta, so if i do get low on something, i have back-up supply to get me thru the end of the month or what not.

my guy takes care of lots for me.  he's been there time and again for major expenses like when my car needs work, or when i need propane for heat.  and i conserve what i can, when i can.  so i'm pretty frugal i think.

every now and then, i do complain i think.  esp when i am very uncomfortable for longer periods of time.  it doesn't help me to think of how bad others have it, like the starving kids in africa, or the FEMA Folks outta Katrina's path, cuz my hurts are still hurts, regardless of others' hurts.  i know there are others worse off, and most of the time i do realize how fortunate i am.  but when i am feeling awful myself, i can't feel better by thinking of how much worse others have it, ya know?

i went off on a bit of a tangent, oophs!  sometimes i can't seem to grab the thought i wanted to get to!  well, i hope that you enjoy your holiday weekend!  lova, debra

thanks for reading guys, appreciate it.

I Have a Dream

Pride & Joy

One of the things I like to do when I am at LJ's Coffee and Bakery where the 'net connection is a bit faster and better than my home dial-up system (some net is better than no net, i say!) is to cruise on over to youtube.com and pull up some videos.  This evening I was in the mood for some Stevie Ray Vaughn and so I pulled up "Pride & Joy".  Because I have dial-up, I have great sympathy for other dialers-up who have difficulties loading a graphic-rich page so I won't plant the video here, but if you do like blues, guitar, or just some downright great tunes, be sure to give a gander/listen to one of the all-time greats.

By the way, I'm seeing Le Mon requesting this for his Swe'lil baby, his pride and joy, who is long and lean, like a fine wine; requesting it cuz he is her little lover boy.  wink, grin, debra


Well you've heard about love givin' sight to the blind
My baby's lovin' cause the sun to shine
She's my sweet little thang....she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby....I'm her little lover boy

Yeah, I love my baby....heart and soul
Love like our's won't never grow old
She's my sweet little thang....she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby....I'm her little lover boy

Yeah, I love my lady....she's long and lean
You mess with her....you'll see a man get mean
She's my sweet little thang....she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby....I'm her little lover boy

Well, I love my baby....like the finest wine
Stick with her until the end of time
She's my sweet little thang....she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby....I'm her little lover boy

Yeah, I love my baby....heart and soul
Love like our's won't never grow old
She's my sweet little thang....she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby....I'm her little lover boy

Blessed Rain

Most afternoons this summer have been scorching.  This afternoon, though it is hot, it is raining.  It is a steady soaking rain, lasting for a couple hours at least.  We are so relieved, even if it is only for the afternoon, we have had rain.

Amen.

speaking of musicals...

Rent

It may be a musical, but this is a slightly different story.

The beginning of this month came, and there were some extra expenses that don't occur on a monthly basis.  So I budgeted and was able to fill the propane gas tank and renew my car insurance.  I paid my other bills and then I felt wonderful.

Except I had a twinge.  Ya know, that twinge that tickles the extremity of my brain whispering, 'you forgetting something, oh yes you are'.  I thought and reviewed and I figured maybe I didn't pay this month's garbage bill and that was ok, cuz they aren't gonna not pick up for non-payment of one month.

So about two weeks back (which means that it was already two weeks into August), I'm sitting in LJ's, sucking up the cool in there, when in the door walks a woman who looks familiar.  Ya know how if ya see someone outside of the environment you usually see them in ya kinda have a brain-lag while ya try to place the person?  That's what was going on.

But it clicked that the woman coming toward me with a huge smile, waving, was my landlady.  And it also clicked what my brain was whispering and tickling me over.  I'd forgotten to pay this month's rent.

Can you imagine?!?

sweet words of advice

sassyfron's activities

my four month old kitten is growing at an unreal rate.  or maybe it just seems that way to me because stella, who was nine months when she disappeared was smaller than average.  saffron is larger at 4 months than stella was at 9!

saffron is a sassy lil girl and she is the very first kitten i've ever seen that chases her own tail with abandon.  her eyes widen, she spreads her paws and leaps.  of course leaping makes her butt swing behind her, taking her tail with it.  and the chase is on!

earlier, i had wrapped up a crocheted hat that i made for my friend (whom i call greta, that's not her 'real' name, but then again she calls me 'doo' so i guess that makes sense, on some level).  there were a few sheets of tissue paper left and saffron has been ripping and tearing.  i think she has found a new love.  her pupils are so large that i can't even see her ires at all!

i can't wait til she tries the catnip!

Nona's parents

thanks for hanging in there!

Nona Puss here and Foo Friends!

THANKS RUSS!!

Ta DAaaa! Presenting: Nona Puss and Family Foo!

How I spent my day (or Meet Nano Puss & Family Foo)

I'm trying something new and if it works, wow, oh wow!

First off, lemme say that Russ is my inspiration on this one.  He encourages others to create with no inhibitions.  He says to sketch that octipus it even if you don't think you can draw.  Do it anyway.  On his site, he features drawings, some with a running theme (pear-dude, design dresses for the awards, word of the day, right-ons, dammits!, and oh so many more) and some stand-alones.  Over the time I have been first lurking thru his journal, then leaving comments, following what he shares of his life, I've come to realize that he's a dude worth knowing.  So if you've not gandered, go check it!

Then too, lemme say that there are so many other folks who have been so supportive and accepting and encouraging, my guy and Bonnie (of Bonnie and Walt) most especially.  My guy encourages me in all I do.  Cheering me along and giving me the support that I need, in the ways I need it most.  I am so glad that he is my guy.

A few months back, Walt died and Bonnie began to sift through some things.  She sent me an art kit that had been Walt's father's and so I began to doodle a bit.  I sent her a few drawings and things and she was very enthusiastic.  Their journals/blogs are well worth the read!  Although, Bonnie does not use the computer, she contributed much as Walt was the typer of the two.  This couple was truly one of the best partnerships I have ever seen.

I'm experiencing some technical difficulties, but will continue in just a few.

"Squeezing every last drop..."

Judith Heartsong's call for August's Artsy Essay can be found here.

It is only now, late in the evening, with the sun having left another blazing dusty trail and darkness riding on its tailcoat that I am able to breathe.  I can still feel the heat being released by the ground of my yard, the asphalt of the parking lot, the simmering sidewalks.  Every outdoor object is pulsating with heat-waves radiating into my tender skin, as I push my way into the grocery store, the blessed chilled air soothing my sticky sweated brow.

And I breathe deeply.  Here in Mississippi, we are begging for relief from the unrelenting heatwave that has gripped us for most of the month.  In August alone, we have already broken the record high temperatures a dozen times.  Air-temps have been about 100 degrees for weeks now, and the humidity adds to the heat index, making life truly unbearable for most.

I've been seeking refuge in the public library (sucking up the controlled climate the books share with me), the gym where I can sink into the cool pool, and LJ's (a local coffee and bakery) where I can soak up the fan's breezes.  My own home, an old single wide trailer in the midst of hay fields, imitates hell quite well.  The air conditioner labors on the hi/hi setting and an additional fan do nothing to combat the steadily climbing temps that call forth sweat from my pores.  I'm drenched and panting merely sitting still by mid-morning.

Area schools have started over two weeks ago, pointless as I cannot fathom attempting to learn and process anything new.  One elementary school in town had to replace their central air, while adding supplemental air conditioners for some spaces where heat is generated, such as the computer lab and the kitchen.  An added expense that is painfully pinching to our already strained budget, we simply cannot function without more moderate conditions for our children.

Summer has not been sweet this year.  It's been blistering, sweltering, and humid, yet we are in need of refreshing rain.  Crops have been damaged, due to the lack of rain and the abusive sun that burns what little moisture vegetation provides.  Angry tempers have run just as hot as daily temperatures, as more and more altercations are reported by listless newscasters.

In the night, when the air cools to the low 80s, I pour myself a large glass of swe'tea.  I quench my thirst and then hold the sweaty glass to my throat, feeling my pulse carry cooled blood to my overheated brain.  It is when the night has fallen that my spirits rise.  In the kitchen, I pull the basket of lemons closer to me, preparing to squeeze every last drop of this sunshine from my summer into tomorrow's pitcher.

Hark! How the years go by!

Judith Heartsong and I share a birthday, and a few other things.  She's an amazing woman and it was her journal that inspired me to start my own, the original Debra's Daily Dose.  To read that entry, go here.

I am pleased to say that way back when she had a journal here, back before the ad-stink, Judy began her "Artsy Essay" Contest.  It was a monthly call that asked folks to write an entry focused on a theme that she would give.  The very first one was themed "how art has influenced me life" and guess what?  I won it!  Here's that entry, back in September 2004.

Judy's journal no longer exists, but you can find her in her "new" digs and admire her decor, her wit, her compassion, her journey and her observations.  And guess what?  She has continued to hold the "Artsy Essay" contest, after taking a hiatus.  You can read her August Artsy Essay call here.

If you aren't familiar with Judy, check her out!  I think that she's worth knowing.  She's an outstanding woman who truly has song in her heart.

Ditzy Debbie

Lately I've been quite addle-minded.  Scatter-brained.  Absent-minded.  I mean, more than usual.  Don't be giving me that look, I wasn't trying to pull one over on ya.

My focus control frizzled.  I have a ton of stuff I want to say, here in the journal, share with my guy, bring up in counseling, and yet when faced with a blank for journal entry, a weekend visit with my guy, a counseling session; blip!  my brain runs amuck and scatters in too many directions at once.

it's frustrating.  i feel like Doofus Debbie.  it's a helpless, hopeless feeling that reminds me of exactly how inept i can be.

at such times, it is hard to remember that i am not always so vacant.  it's hard to believe in me at those times, as being lovable and likable and articulate and witty.  it's hard to remember that i have more than half a brain.

it's just very....uh....very....it's very.....words fail.

hhhhhhhhhhhushhhhhhhh

it's too hot.  it's too aggravating.  i'm being fussy, i know.  but i have tried to sign-in so that i could leave an entry in my own journal, emphasis on "tried".  i've been trying for days and days to leave comments, sometimes it works, and sometimes, NOPE.  sigh.

i wanna go home, and i wanna sleep.  but that's not to be.  not today, anyway, maybe tomorrow.

i started thinking "HHHHhhhhhhhhhhot" and in mid thought changed to "shhhhhhhhhhhh" like a sleepy slur.  which is why the subject is "hhhhhhhhhhh...sssshhhhhhh".

hope you are staying cool and sleeping sweet.

SASsseee

My kitten is about 4 months old, filling out nicely and growing to be a big cat.  Her name is Saffron because she has an orange burst on her forehead.  But sometimes I can her SassiFron cuz she is one sassy lil saucy girl!

She's very gentle with me, keeping her claws sheathed and not breaking my skin when she nips me.  She is so sweet and cuddly.  But every now and then, she gets a lil sassy.  Like any other feline who feels life is all about her needs and desires being served, and with a smile dammit; she just waltzes in, plops down, and drapes her form across my guy's chest, with her head between her paws (she mimics my two dogs).

In fact, Sassifron loves my guy so much that she will curl up on his lap at the computer, snubbing me in the process.  She will add her teeth marks to his papers near the stables.  She will cozy down in his bookbags, and hide in his clothes.  She's even sat down in his truck, behind the steering-wheel.

If I had a lower self-esteem, I'd think she was trying to get away.  From me.  Can you imagine?!?  Good thing I don't have a lower self-esteem, huh?

ya d'uhm-schitz...

Sometimes I am smacked in the head with just how inconsiderate and vain we can be.  The news showed an interview with a woman who was very put out because "...well, like we flew into Cancun?  and we were planning to ya know be here for our honeymoon?  and (tsk-ah) now we have to go back home, to New York, cuz of Hurricane Dean...it's just not faaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrr"  Yeah, omigawd, so not fair (big eye roll).

ya d'uhm-schitz

Sturgis South

It's that time of the year again and we are all pleased to welcome the motorcyles to Sturgis and surrounding areas.  Sturgis, Mississippi that is!  Tucked into the southwestern corner of Oktibbeha County; Sturgis is a hop, skip, and a jump away from Starkville (home to Mississippi State University).  Sturgis is a small, but strong community of less than 300 people.  But come mid-August, the town is flooded with thousands who register for the bike rally.  Last year, 35,000+ rolled into the area.

This year marks over ten for Sturgis South.  In Kentucky, Little Sturgis is about 15 years old.  And of course, the mother of all Sturgis Rallies, South Dakota is over 65 years in the making and still going strong!

Welcome to Sturgis South!

Extreme Ways

When I was younger, I listened to music nonstop or so it seemed.  I think I wore out many cassette tapes (before CDs were popular, mind you) and Tori Amos (these little earthquakes) and Sarah McLachlan (fumbling toward ecstasy) saw me thru my college years.  There is always a song to match any mood.

As the years wore on, I listened less to music because I couldn't multi-task like I used to do.  Gone are the days I could listen and read, listen and study, listen and write.  Sometimes I will listen while crocheting, but usually not even then.

Still there are those songs that just grip me and make me want to scream or croon or laugh along with the touching music.  Moby's "Extreme Ways" is one of those songs that just gets me, right in the gut.  I wanna fling my arms up and roll my neck, offering up myself as I flash thru my more manic moments that fit better than a comfy "t".

So, right now, I'm calling up some various songs and singers on youtube.com.  Like Nina Simone's "Feeling Good", the lyrics and beat of which are freeing and grounding at the same time.  And I love Cat Steven's "How Can I Tell You".  If you've not heard it, give it a listen.

Sprichst du Deutsch?

Earlier today, I had a met a girl who is embarking on an adventure, next week she becomes a college freshman.  Congrats, I say!  She plans to study French and Spanish, both of which are Romance languages (Roman, ya know, Latin based) that sound silky smooth, so much so that I cannot differentiate between one word and the next.  It all flows so fluidly that my brain is still catching the beginning of the sentence long after the speaker has fallen silent, awaiting a response.

But speaking with Jonte' brought to mind my own experiences with language that were more successful.  Well, that's relative.  Being that sometimes I feel I haven't even gotten a handle on English enough to be truly proficient.

One of my degrees is in German.  I don't use it regularly enough to have a conversation of any depth but I could probably read more than the warnings written on the changing-table in the restroom.  But it is Latin that I return to, time and time again.

Latin is a wonderful language, rich with meanings and versatility.  I know of no other language that you can list the words in any order and still understand exactly what is being said.  That's because the word itself changes to reflect declension/conjugation.  Latin fuels so many other languages and influences many words in our own tongues, forming the root of it all.

So, I've returned to it yet again and am learning and relearning and building off of what I know.  Latin, language of labor and love alike.

suggestions? anyone?

My mother turns 60 in October of this year.  My father turned 60 in December of last year.  My brother turns 40 in July of next year.  I am not having a birthday this year, or had one last year, or plan to have one next year.  Ok, I did have one last year (you are soooooooo smart, I can't get one by on you now, can I?) in November and have now completed 36 years and am working on my 37th.  See, no special year like the rest of the family.  Well, ok then, every year is special, cuz it beats the alternative.

So what's all the blather regarding birthdays anyway and why, oh why, would I turn my attention to such a subject?  Well, with mom's birthday a few months off, I need to figure out exactly what I plan to do for her, gift-wise.  Yeah, but Debra, it's a few months off.  Yes, yes, I realize that and that is precisely why I am fussing about now instead of then.

See it takes time to create what ever it is that I will be making.  Plus ya gotta add time to the baseline of an estimate of how long whatever project is said to take, cuz ya gotta remember, this is me and my bumbling fingers.  Besides, I have a few things in mind, and started, but the exact right thing that screams "mom!  oh this is it, this is the right one!" hasn't jumped up and bitten me yet.

And maybe that's ok.  Cuz frankly, ya gotta be a bit tetched in the head to be working with yarn during the dog days (105 degrees right now).  so if anyone has a stunning suggestion that is screaming to be voiced, leave a comment.  thanks!!

The Last Red-Hot Mama

Sophie Tucker billed herself as such.  Bette Midler loved, respected, and idolized Sophie (and I tend to think that the Divine Miss M was and is a red-hot mama too).  Sophie was a large woman, in more ways than one.  Yes, she was big, ample figured.  But she was even bigger as a performer, one of the last vaudevillians to perform of that era.  She poked fun at herself with a huge lusty voice that also played up her sensual sexual appetites.  She was, indeed, one red-hot mama.

cole porter comes to visit again

Every August, Cole Porter asserts that it is indeed "too damn hot" in an endless loop in my head.  This year is no different.  I know that in a few months I will be focused on the sharp bitter cold and how amazed I am to find conditions quite like that in Mississippi.  We are never satisfied with the hand we are dealt.

For now, tho, it is the heat and the humidity that adds to the heat index, the "real feel" of just how uncomfortably hot one can be that is the focus.  Here we are, 7pm, and it is 100 degrees in the shade.  I am grateful that I have no crops to harvest or labor that involves more than the physical effort of drawing a breath.

For over a month now, I've been struggling to breathe.  I had had an infection in my lungs, bronchitis which developed into pneumonia and it takes time for any organ to heal from their irritated state, especially when being used as continuously as lungs are.  Now and for the last fortnight or so, the pressing suffocation is more a result of the extreme heat and humidity than the recovering condition of my lungs.

I know that I am not alone in this misery.  The entire nation is wilting and melting and draining.  But that serves as no consolation, does not lessen my discomfort an iota.

Nightfall brings some relief of sorts, the sun's rays move on to another part of the world and I revive long enough to sink into a comfortable doze of sorts.  It is absolutely not wonder I and so many others are disoriented and more than half crazed.

Welcome to my mid-summer's misery.

Cool Carrots

Today, instead of fleeing my overheated home for the afternoon, I sprawled on the bed, with the fan directly on me.  The air conditioner is on high/high.  My poor puddin' head was dreaming of cool carrots and bean burritos.  (if i were russ, i would render a sketch.  grin)

That's probably cuz I had a bag of frozen carrot disks under my feet and a bag of frozen bean burritos (cuz they are dense and stay frozen longer) under my neck.  If I coulda summoned the energy to drag my body to the freezer, I woulda grabbed the rest of the frozen bags to nestle into various nooks and crannies.  But that would have meant expending the energy, and energy is heat.  and THAT should be avoided at all costs.

stay cool as cucumbers!

you CAN get arrested for that

Apparently it is illegal to drive around the town square in Oxford, Mississippi more than one hundred times in a single session.  Seriously, it's a law, on the books.  I've no idea how many times it has been enforced.  But if ya decide to cruise Oxford's square, you're taking the law into your own hands.

My guy currently lives in Oxford, goes to school at Ole Miss and has finished his third year in his PhD program.  So I have some familiarity with Oxford and the town square.  I can attest that sometimes it seems that you must break this law just to find a parking space, particularly if it is a home game weekend.

But in reality, it would be next to impossible, let alone improbable, to actually violate this law.  Unless you happen to be these guys.

Driving around the town square
more than 100 times in a single
session is illegal in Oxford, Mississippi.

Location: Oxford, MS
Comment: Crossing lap 101 of Oxford's town square. And yes, Bateman was smoking whilst taking the shot. I don't know; you pay peanuts, you get monkeys.

Having fun with the weather forecast

Below is the forecast for tomorrow.  Now I'm picturing a thunderstorm not paying attention to the rest of the jet stream, heading along in a lil herd.  No, not this thunderstorm!  This one wanders off course and meanders thru here, where it's not spoda be.  A "stray" thunderstorm, my ass.  Next time you are out and about and rain interrupts your day for a few moments, remember, it might be a stray thunderstorm.  Not to worry, it will find its way back to the herd.  It is, after all, the dog days of summer.  I'm saying all this, cuz dude, 105 jest ain't right.  Welcome to Mississippi!

"Sunny, along with a few afternoon clouds. A stray thunderstorm is possible. Heat index near 105F. High 97F. Winds W at 5 to 10 mph."

Swimming with the Kids

My guy's sisters and their families rented a hotel room today/tonight so that all the kids could go swimming in the heat of dog's days and have one last summer fun fling before school starts.  So we drove up to Tupelo and joined them this afternoon for awhile.  They have a pack of lil boys, ranging in age from 1 to 8, and a baby-sister on the way (pregnant sister was so absolutely adorable, all 100 pound of her, no lie!  she is usually 85 lbs and stands 4'8"...I am HUGE next to her, even a ninth month pregnant her).  We were all so busy watching whichever handful of children happened to be next to us that we ended up including other kids that didn't belong to us into the mix.

Sometimes, it truly does take a village to raise a child.

Muesli

A few months ago I began to make a simplified version of muesli.  I can make it with four ingredients and alter it to add various fruits.  It should be made ahead of time so that the mix has time to set, the oats need to absorb the liquids.  It can be kept in the fridge for several days.  To me, it is cool, smooth, thick, and I like it very much.  Sometimes, I will go for a few weeks without making it, but usually there are the ingredients on-hand.

I use equal parts yogurt (plain/vanilla), oats, juice (i use apple), and fruit (i've used canned pears, dried berries, fresh peaches/nectarines).  I mix it together, cover with plastic wrap, pop the bowl in the fridge overnight and POOF! that's it.  Sometimes I slice a banana into it just before I eat.  I make a batch with a cup of each of the 4 major ingredients (yogurt, oats, juice, and fruit); but if you haven't had it before, I'd recommend starting with a half cup each, that way you can try it and see what you think.

hot, Hot, HOT, HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHot

Because here in Mississippi the humidity adds to the heat index so that a hot temperature like 90 feels like 99, because I live in an elderly trailer (read tin box), and because I'm working with a very lil air conditioner; my mid-afternoons are generally sweaty lethargic struggles to breathe affairs (not helped by my recuperating from bronchitis/pneumonia, I'm sure).

Having said all that, it would seem entirely reasonable that at this time of the night I am cooking and doing laundry.  Ya know, things that add heat and humidity to any already hot and humid environment.

So, whatcha upta?

Dandelion Wine

The title was vaguely tugging at my mind, and "Dandelion Wine" is not the volume I first found the tale in the last entry.  But my brother did and does own that book too.  This past Christmas was the first time that I had seen my brother at the holidays for about 15 years.  I remember seeing the book in his stack of reads.

Douglas's views of Green Town are more fully explored in "Dandelion Wine".  Perhaps I will read the book instead of only the handful of tales that Bradbury fashions into short stories and excerpts to scatter amongst other publications.  I'll add it to my library list.

So, what have you been reading of late?

b(RA)dbur(Y)

When I was a child, back in the mid-70s, I wondered what my brother found so fascinating about Ray Bradbury.  So I picked up one of the worn books, I can't remember which.  And I read it thru.  There were some stories that I couldn't and didn't comprehend.  There were some I just didn't care for.  And there were a few that I loved.

Last night, I read one in this volume of his "most celebrated tales" that brought back childhood memories of reading the story the first time and how I identified with it then, and still do.  "The Sound of Summer Running" is the name of the short that had originally been published in the Saturday Evening Post well before I was born.  In 1956, it ran under the name "Summer in the Air".

I think I prefer the first title, for that to me is exactly what the story was all about.  The things that confirm that yes! summer is really here.  The very air and scents and the freshness and warmness of the summer sun early in the morning burning off the misty fog signal that summer is like no other season.  Summer means freedom, from school, from rules and regulations.  Freedom to run and explore is found only in summer.

For the boy in this story, new tennis shoes always meant that summer was indeed here.  Really, summer cannot be fully experienced without new tennis shoes!  Well, to me it was slightly different.  New shoes were a sign of fall, the beginning of school.

But the actual idea of the shoes and the shoes themselves were full of nostalgic memories.  The best part of the shoes was hard to determine.  Was it the spongy lightness of the new soles that added bounce and spring to the step?  Or the wideness that allowed toes to be wriggled about?  Even the fact that the tennis shoes were NEW instead of old sprung worn-out smelly funky beat up sneaks was something to be savored.  For me, the sole of the shoe, the slight firmness with a tad give and utterly smooth unmarked unformed unsoiled canvas coolness was the most marvelous aspect of new tennis shoes.

Ray Bradbury's story focuses on "Cream Sponge Para Litefoot Shoes" and Douglas's lust for them, and his awe that he shares with Mr. Sanderson.  Even the name, cream sponge and litefoot, made my toes wriggle with glee and my feet actually sighed.  Last night, rereading this brought the same joy I remember experiencing the first time I read the story, as a child of the 70s, when children still ran about outside playing and new sneakers meant the world was right.

hunger

i've been eating like a snuffling lil piggy (pause to visualize a pinkish piggy with glasses scarfing down some serious chow).  and still hungry.  i know i am not pregnant.  but damn!  i've been eating myself out of house and home!

i'm oh so much better, breathing and lung capacity wise.  there is still some burning, just cuz my lungs are so irritated and will take some time to fully heal, but i'm one happy happy joyous camper!

better and better and better and

I'm feeling lots better!!  There is still some phlegm in my lungs, but I'm way better improved.  The situation is improving every day.  Yea!!

...i was doing what?

My guy has an inattentive subtype of ADD.  It's really quite amazing that he is the man that he is and that he has completed his third year in the PhD program.  Yea, sweetieheart!!

So I don't mean to be mean.  But I do find it to be very suitable that Psych Central has two versions of a test for Adult ADD.  There is the 'regular' 24 item quiz.  And there is the 'quick' six item quiz.  Which is understandably preferable, doncha think?

I'm just saying.

do not open

usually when my guy stumbles around in the wee morning hours before leaving my house for his (two hours away), i sleep right thru it.  but this morning, i woke up even before the nasty insistent alarm went off.  so i decided to have a piece of last night's pizza and then my industrial strength antibiotic that always makes me think that i will take this magic bullet and be transformed! into an amazingly well person immediately.  and i slurp down some herbal tea too, just to make sure i've got all the bases covered, what with all those "take with food", "take with drink", "offer up your first born to the gods of modern science" labels.

folks, there is a reason the antibiotic is encapsulated within three layers of invincible gel; as i soon discovered when it dissolved in my stomach and resurfaced with a burp.  mmmmmmmmm.  i was planning to use my throat today, but after that mishap, i'll be signing my counseling session.

so, is your week off to a good start?

gettin' better

i'm getting better, this i know because i worked myself up into a spitting tizzy of half-choked gasps of indignant protests when this afternoon's mail brought to me the latest in the dept of education's attempts of righteous repayment.  not in my house!

bRAdburY

Monday I visited the library after seeing the doctor, because they were holding a book for me.  while i was there i quickly snatched up a volume of short stories, cuz that's about how long my attention can last and my eyes can stay open.  it's a ray bradbury collection.  man, that dude has been around for a looooooooooooong time.  he is currently 87 years old.  he wrote the forward of the book in 2003, damn, i hope i'm thinking, let alone writing when i get into my 80s.

would you just quit breathing?!?

last night, my guy came to see me.  he's back from texas and i missed him so!  he has a rather hardy constitution and can be around my contagious conditions and not be affected much.  i'd love him for that reason alone, if i didn't already love him for scads of other reasons.

but last night, i think i tested his love for me.  or at least his tolerance for me at that given moment.  he was all nestled in bed, sound asleep.  and i was nestled in bed, hacking and coughing.  the dogs were outside barking and my guy was getting rather testy in his sleep.  i went to the bathroom to do the worst of my own barking, but i think the small space served as an echo chamber and magnified the sound that much more.

my guy rolled over and muttered a few obscenities  that could have been due to many things, but i'm thinking that the simultaneous barking the dogs and i were engaged in was greatly contributing to my guy's aggravated state.  poor guy.

hey, i'm breathing here!

This morning a dude in bellsouth regalia knocked on my door.  I signaled "one minute" (I had to find my pants, opening doors while in underwear is not recommended, tho i have been known on occasion to do so).  He was patient.

He asked, "so what's wrong with your phone this time?"  as though he'd been here recently instead of several years ago.  I stared blankly at him, wondering if I had been cough-syrup calling.  We finally sorted out that he was looking for my next-door neighbors who live two miles away.

I explained how to get there and sent him on his mission of the day then stood in the yard for a few minutes trying to deal with sensory overload.  The colors seemed a bit too bright, everything was a bit too sharp, the air was too moist and hot (that'd be humid, right?) and tasted bitter.  I turned and wobbled back to the steps and plopped down.  My ears were sloshing with my heartbeat and some sort of large heavy equipment drone (turns out that was my air conditioner).  I leaned forward and my head promptly popped off and rolled away, thus freeing up my lungs to gasp, rattle, and hum even louder.

I am so glad to be back inside and promise to not ever jam that much movement into a small time-frame like that when i am feeling this shitty.  it tends to stir up the sediments that are coating the swampiness of my lungs and clouds my brain to the point where i was wondering if i could just lie down in the grass to die or did i really need to get back inside whereupon i might live to see yet another day.

Here it is a few hours later, I'm feeling better, more removed from death's threshold.  now i am merely struggling to breathe deeper than a shallow pant and wondering if i will ever draw a phlegm-phree breath again.

so, how's your weekend?

discovery, happy belated birthday heather!

I've recently discovered Dooce and have been developing an absolute bonding experience, check out Heather's very long running blog, a cool commentary on life as she sees it. You might be familiar with her as she was fired for blogging, altho she didn't refute or appeal the decision, it did raise all sorts of privacy issues and such.  Heather has blogged on her marriage, her pregnancy/birth/motherhood, her Leta, her fall from religion, her mental illnesses, and all with a sense of frankness that is a great blend of humor (crude, lewd, and rude), compassion, wit.  The dudette can think.  Check it!

Yesterday was her birthday, as a kicky lil bonus.  Happy Birthday, Dooce!

laid low

there has been some crap with the dept of education and some other crap with a continuation review board and then there is the crap in counseling but the biggest crap at the moment (and for the past week) has been the inability to draw a non-musical breath.

no kidding, i sound like a 20+ year old clunker attempting to start in pennsylvania in a blizzard.  this isn't just a wheeze, it's not just a rattle, it's an entire symphony going on; we gotcher woodwinds, we gotcher clashing cymbals, hell we even gotcher bagpipes.  all right here in my chest.

i go back to the doctor in the morning.  i'm gonna request those long suction pipes they use in surgery (and the dentist's office) and have a go at my phlegm clogged lungs.  i've already had a breathing treatment (monday) and they sent me home with antibiotics, inhaler, and cough syrup.

it ain't pretty, and in a way, i'm glad my guy is in texas at the moment.  as it is, he listens to me hack up crud long distance.  it's safer than being in spit spewing distance.

Drought in Mississippi

We normally have a rainy spring, usually a solid month of Mississippi mud (not the dessert).  Our rainfall levels are about a foot and a half low.  Most of the lakes and ponds are very low and the rivers are too.  Most farmers here in Mississippi are very worried because crop yield is way down.

Yet, we have such humid days.  At night, and early in the morning, the dew drenches the ground and grass.  Then the sun rises and burns off the dew, leaving the vegetation thirsting for water.

So, I wonder why we don't use condensation sheets.  Surely a grant from the Dept of Agriculture could grant monies to farmers for these materials that would allow the night airs to catch and accumulate the moisture so that some of the humidity can help to combat the drought.  I know it would not solve everything, but given that last year and this year were low productivity yields, I think it might help to take some predatory steps to prevent the same sort of damage in the future.

The government will fund projects that make no sense.  I'd like to see them fund something that does make sense.  Yet another pipe-dream of mine.  sigh.

tids and bits

I've been away for awhile, but do appreciate all the comments that have been left.  It's been a rather draining year, thus far.  I'm dealing with some murky personal issues and have not wanted to write much because I am afraid that my entries will be laden with whining and/or things that should be left unsaid and unread at this point.  But there are a few things external to that whole mess that I'd like to say.

Some of you may remember that I had a kitten named Stella since October.  Well, in May she didn't show up for her meal time and I thought she might be out in the fields, checking out things.  After she didn't show for a few days, I called my landlords because I thought maybe Stella went to their place to play with her litter mates.  Nope, they've not seen her.  I called the local humane society thinking that maybe someone picked her up if she strayed off the farm.  DeLisa and Glenn had not seen her.  Something happened to her, which may make sense since she was still a kitten and there are some big bad things in these fields and woods.  She was extremely gentle and laid-back with me, so maybe she didn't know how to defend herself.

In the beginning of June, I'd be talking with my guy about how I missed her and also how I missed having a kitty gamboling about.  He had gotten an eMail from one of his fellow grad students because she was wanting to find homes for four kittens that her father's cat had had at the end of April.  The eMail was old and so we weren't sure if any kittens were still available.  Well the gist of it is that over Father's Day weekend, a kitten was transported from Mobile to Oxford and then I picked her up and brought her home to Starkville.

Saffron is a long-haired grey and black kitten with a orange burst on her forehead.  I thought the name would suit and everyone liked it so they began to call her that while she was still in Mobile.  She is extremely gentle with me, and very vocal.  She gets along well with the pups and acclimated quite nicely to the place.  At first, she was both indoors and outdoors, but then I got sort of worried that something along the lines of Stella's fate might happen.  So I purchased kitty litter, litter pan, and scoop and then set everything up for her.  She took to it immediately and things are oder-free so far because I keep up with the disposal of the scoopables.  She wasabsolutely great while I shampooed her and then sprayed her with flea/tick treatment.  I will most likely keep her as an indoors kitty.

I am allergic to cats but have had luck with Stella and so far with Saffron.  The only reactions I've had are if my skin is broken with her nails.  Then, I have a bit of local swelling and itching.  I do take allergy meds for lots of stuff so that's helped.  I'm planning to get her clipped, as that will help even more.  I plan to continue to shampoo her with this gentle nature mix that I found that is good for cats as it doesn't strip out the oils that protect their skin.  If I do develop breathing problems, she gots to go tho.

So that's whats up with the kitty situation.  Hopefully more updates will follow soon!  Have a great week and enjoy the 4th as much as possible, safely.

Phonophobia

I love peace and quiet.  Noises tend to startle me and I often slip away, when surrounded by harsh sounds.  Dissociating is something that I have to work hard against, sometimes more so than others.  At times, I fall away before I realize it, and am no longer present in the moment.  I've been doing better over the past few years, in some ways cuz I have isolated in many ways.  There are those few times when I surround myself with sounds, by choice.  But most of the time, chaos adds to my anxiety.  Usually, I know now when I am having an exceptionally rough time, and am more vulnerable to triggers that are best avoided.  It is at those times being home, in the relative solitude is a solace to me.  I'm learning to know myself and listen to myself more and more, trusting and respecting me.  It is so very wonderful that I have a loving supportive guy who encourages me, praises me, and comforts me.  Thank you, sweetie, for being you!

Swings

I've been feeling a great amount of anxiety for a sustained amount of time.  The times when I am able to still focus on other things and function to some degree are becoming fewer and fewer.  I had thought that I was making some positive strides.  Now, I'm not so sure, because I feel sucker-punched to the gut with a huge cannon ball.  I know that these things happen and that I'll land on my feet.  But right now, all those notions seem lame and trite.

Several times in the past week, I've only slept for a few hours at most, to be jolted awake and unable to rest again.  I feel tremendously jittery and exhausted and I hate, hate, hate being stuck in this quagmire.

My counselor and I have been dealing with some tough issues for months now and taking a break is necessary but not happening because I can't seem to get my ducks in a row to do that.  When I'm on, I'm really quite alright.  But I'm off-kilter so often and so easily here of late that it is having wear and tear on me.

This is awful.

Sometimes, ya just need a good cry...

Seasons In The Sun Lyrics

Goodbye to you, my trusted friend.
We've known each other since we're nine or ten.
Together we climbed hills or trees.
Learned of love and ABC's,
skinned our hearts and skinned our knees.
Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die,
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
Pretty girls are everywhere.
When you see them I'll be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the hills that we climbed
were just seasons out of time.
Goodbye, Papa, please pray for me,
I was the black sheep of the family.
You tried to teach me right from wrong.
Too much wine and too much song,
wonder how I get along.
Goodbye, Papa, it's hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
Little children everywhere.
When you see them I'll be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the wine and the song,
like the seasons, all have gone.
Goodbye, Michelle, my little one.
You gave me love and helped me find the sun.
And every time that I was down
you would always come around
and get my feet back on the ground.
Goodbye, Michelle, it's hard to die
when all the bird are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
With the flowers ev'rywhere.
I whish that we could both be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the stars we could reach
were just starfishs on the beach

Hello, Walt

Walt passed fairly peacefully this afternoon.  Bonnie takes great comfort in this and so much more.  He has touched so many lives and as his journals are here, online, he will continue to affect folks.  Bonnie reminds me that Walt is now my guardian angel and is truly spiritual and surrounds us all.  Hello, my friend, and welcome to a carefree existence!

waiting

It seems at the moment that so much of my life right now is in limbo.  Waiting is excruciating.  Last night, the nursing home called Bonnie and said that Walt's condition is deteriorating quickly and to come in.  I've not yet heard what is what.  Hopefully, this has been as peaceful as possible.  I wish I were geographically closer, but I know that I probably would add to confusion and crisis if I were actually there.  Besides, emotional, mental, spiritual support can be more comforting than physical presence.

In other me-news, the Dept of Education, my doctors, my counselors, and me are locked into a strange dance.  All my folks, the doctors, the counselors, the other care-givers are all rallying and willing to see this through.  Now, if only the dept of education would give us some straight answers and some consistency, stop negating their own stories and policy, we could move forward.  I've already been told by the Dept of Education that my loans will be discharged, however, I've not received documentation regarding that.  Instead they have told me that they need more info, but refuse to tell me what that info is.  My doctors' offices are doing all they can, refaxing forms to the Dept of Edu again and again, but to no avail.  I am past confusion and desperation.  This whole thing has had a toll and altho I know that this is par for the course for a gov'ment bureaucracy and all, it doesn't make things any easier to wade thru.  Urk.

Will update on Walt as I can.

Blah blah blogs

I've been canceling accounts that I've not used in sometime.  I wanted to try a bunch of different types of forums.  Some are pretty cool, but I didn't want to spread myself out even thinner (not that I'm thin, ya know, but I need to focus on a few things rather than so many).  But there were a few good entries, and I wanted to include those here before I cancel out the useless blogs.

Consolidation is what I'm sayin'.

Newness

There was so much going on in my life, then slowly things slowed down in an absolute way. But to me, life still seemed too hectic and I was stressing over the smallest thing. Now, I have cut even more "obligation" from my life so that I can focus on developing some other areas. Like writing, like learning German, like swimming and working out on a more regular basis, like attending to my own needs and becoming and being healthier.

I know for some folks, that my life might be more than ideal. For me, I'm not exactly sure why it seems that I have less of an ability to handle things that don't weird others. Like my phone service, there is a problem and I just haven't the energy to deal with the hassle of it.

And even this, sounds like I am sniveling.

But, I am devoting this journal space to sorting out all those pieces and parts that are so overwhelming, confusing, little, hurt, vulnerable, proud, stubborn, loud, smart, hidden, scared, indignant, etc. So, at times this might be intense, at times it might make little sense, at times i might be sniveling. The cool thing is, it's mine.

IFS (parts is parts)

When I began to see this current therapist, I was curious about the model she uses. It's called "The Internal Family Systems Model" or IFS for short. It is a combination of several existing models and tends to emphasize certain elements of them, so that it is not an entirely new model (and really what is?) but a definite improvement of any single one of the models by themselves. It addresses some drawbacks while accentuating the positives.

What makes IFS, IFS is viewing all of your parts as making up a huge system, that helps you to function, by protecting you, managing certain aspects, crisis super heros that rush in to save the day. That's my take on it. Looking over the website, http://www.internalfamilysystems.org/model.htm, to get a better idea of the formalized model's vocab, I see that they call these Firefighters, Managers, and Exiles. These parts exist along with the Self.

The managers are usually those that are protectively guiding you through situations. These parts often deal with presentation of self, wanting to keep things smooth, and looking good. The managers often shield the self from anything that may bring to mind vulnerable emotions and feelings. Those emoting parts are called exiles, because the managers are quashing them down from contact with the self, banning them to hidden unacknowledged areas. Then there are the firefighters that come to the rescue when memories and emotions flare up. Overeating maybe a firefighting way to drown emotional pain for some.

Now I know that some of you may be thinking, "parts?!?" I think that we all have referred to multiplicity of self. When you are faced with a difficult decision, you may say that part of you wants to do this, and part of you thinks that this other choice might be best. This sort of thinking doesn't make you odd, it makes you human. For me, it's more of a matter of paying attention to my parts and my self than a matter of my not relating to parts.

The main thing about this model that appeals to me is that instead of scolding myself into eliminating a part, this model is about accepting those parts and valuing them and honoring that they helped you to function and survive. It makes it so much more likely that one part won't be so overwhelming, if you don't try to delete it. Sometimes that part just wants to be heard.

I think about my two dogs as an example. I have a 65 pound black lab who is 5, named Shaddow. And a soon to be 4 yr old rat-cha (rat terrier/chihuahua) who is about 5 to 10 pound, named Ziggee. Shaddow is very loving and gentle. Ziggee is a happy guy but more demanding because he loves attention. Shaddow will hang in the back, and let Ziggee rush up and grab all the attention. I can tell that Shaddow wants some love too, but Ziggee is right there, hogging it all.

Well, I discovered that if I pay a ton of attention to Ziggee, give him enough love that he knows without a doubt that I love him. Reassure him and saturate him with my love. Then, after he is not so wild with need, I turn to Shaddow. Now, Ziggee will try to squirm in. Ijust tell him that I do love him, but this is Shaddow's time and he needs to let her have her love too. He usually is so happy and satisfied that he lays down somewhere close, so he is near. But he gives Shaddow all the time she needs too. Shaddow knows that I will spend alot of time with her and scratch all the hairs loose and give her lots of attention and love too. So she is willing to wait til Ziggee has had his turn and then she gets her turn of lots of love too. That's kinda how I look at some parts that clamor for attention.

Understood? understand me!!

All my life, as far as I can remember at any rate, I have explained my thoughts ad nauseum. There are a few reasons for this. I'm aware of some of those reasons.

When I was a child, the principal at one of my many schools had commented with exasperation that I had a reason for everything. And I did. I didn't see how that could possibly be a bad thing.

Even as a child, especially as a child, I was very mindful and considered things in from as many perspectives as possible because my parents raised me to be critical and expected me to be able to answer any debatable point. So when I was held accountable for my actions, by omission or commission, I had a reason ready for what I had chosen to do (or not to do). I didn't understand the concept of rhetorical questioning and so I would speak up when asked something like, "what were you thinking?!?"

It became important to me to be understood from a very early age. This means that sometimes I can be pedantic and tend to supply way more of a thorough explanation than was really wanted in the first place. Sometimes I can be mindful of that, but I am never sure at what level of detail my own answers should be. If I ask for clarification, the conversation becomes awkward and often dwindles off into confused avoidance.

However, I need to work on this area and see if there isn't an effective way for me to rein in my own need to be understood by providing exhaustive explanations. Ya know, like the lengthy explanations provided thus far!

Observing

My guy is coming with me to my counseling session on Wed. It is not meant to be couples counseling, or even for me to say things to him that I feel I can't in any other environment (that's not an issue). There are times when I try to describe, to explain, a session, and I fail to do so adequately. So this week, he has some time that he will be available on Wednesday (a very rare oddity) and so I asked him and my counselor if he could come. Both said yes, and my counselor moved our time from our normally scheduled Tuesday to Wed.

The main reason I wanted him to come was so that he could see what a session is like for me and also see what some of the issues are that I'm working through. This counseling is very different from the run of the mill talk therapy and I feel we do get some tremendous work done. I feel better about this therapy than I have about others.

My counselor said that she will approach this as an observation session, and ask that he observe, but not interrupt. That he can feel free to give feedback and ask questions after the session, she will set time aside for that. From my perspective, since it is not an active session which is demanding his participation, I think he is more comfortable with the idea of coming to it. He said that he actually wants to do it, that's why I changed the session from Tuesday to Wed. I don't want him to feel like he NEEDS to do this or any sort of pressure.

Spring has sprung!

My guy did observe my counseling session this past week. He does have a better idea of what the sessions are like, the IFS model and how it can work, and the sorts of issues that I am dealing with at this time. I really appreciate that he made this effort with me, it was a huge step for our relationship, itself.

Now on the lighter side of life, here on this Mississippi Farm...

I have mentioned my furrbees before in this journal. Stella is my 6 month kitten and she just had spaying surgery a few days ago. She is much much better now then for the first day afterwards. In a week or so, I will take her back to have her staples removed.

Ziggee is my lil cat in a dog suit. He is a rat-cha and a bit bigger than Stella, much smaller than Shaddow. Shaddow is my 65 pound black lab, sweet and gentle.

Ziggee is terribly excited about spring. He is just terribly excited about something all the time. Exuberant joyous excitability!! The other day, he was pouncing on clumps of weeds and sending up pollen puffs, and then he would pounce on the next clump. I was getting such a kick out of just watching the lil guy.

Shaddow is practicing her zenlike deep breathing and yoga like postures. She is now engaged in the dead dog pose. She can hold that pose for tremendously long periods of time.

My friends from New York sent me a package which included treats for us all! Tea for me!! Stella's favorite toy, the Really BAD Dog catnip head; Peanut Butter treats which resemble fig-newtons, but are solely for doggy consumption (altho I may wanna try one, I am resisting the urge, so far); bone shaped rawhide chews; and a tug-toy that is quite humorous, although I may be the only one to find it such thus far. I'm sure that when Ziggee can see Shaddow using it, he may decide to give it a try.

Thanks so very much, my dear friends!!

Wow, where to start?

Happy Spring! Tomorrow, my mom is coming for a visit. She lives about 8 hrs away, so we don't get to visit with each other often. She's staying for a few days and I am just beside myself with excitement. I don't care how old I am, I feel like an eager child whenever my mom and I can get together for a visit. yea!!

I've spoken with my counselor about my need to explain things, the last couple visits. There is a part of me that wants to rush ahead and explain everything, because I don't want to take the chance that I might be misunderstood because I didn't voice something that I should have. There is a part of me that is holding back on that rushing ahead part and being more of a 'well now, let's be reasonable' thinking part that is saying CURB your enthusiasm, Debra!!

And I discovered that partly why I feel the need to explain stuff is because so many times when I don't voice my opinion or my thoughts, I'd get run over. Or when I'd say something, but not a BIG long explanation, then folks would say stuff like, well ya know, you weren't very clear. So instead of addressing that, in some other healthy way, I would try to avoid being misunderstood, by voicing every thought, explanation, opinion, etc.

So there is that part that has no voice. That is NOT bad, because voicing things, as you can see, can be taken to the extreme and be disastrous. Voices need not be necessary. There are times when having no voice means that you can still communicate strongly and clearly and effectively.

I am becoming more aware of the need not to explain and more aware of not needing to speak at all. I know that I will not always so the right things, at the right time, to the right amount, but I think I feel a bit more relaxed about the possibility that I can choose to remain silent.

Mom's visit

My mom came to visit this past week. She got in on Thursday late afternoon and we spent the evening basically catching up with any big stuff that has been going on in each other's lives. Friday I did some errands and she got to see some of the town and in general what sort of things I do. We both haven't played Monopoly in forever and so it was fun to have played each other Friday night. Saturday, we went to the Bollinger Family Theatre in Bruce, Mississippi. A few friends of mine came to visit Sunday and Monday. Mom and I watched a few movies and listened to some books on tape over the stay and she left this morning.

So those were the things we did, but here are the things that were most important. Mom and I were very companionable. We were relaxed and easy with each other. There were a few topics of conversation that we agreed to disagree without being a big deal. We were able to discover things about each other that were new and surprising and pleasant.

We talked and talked and talked. That's one of the things I love about visits with mom is that we can actually have conversations and talk about a multitude of things and subjects and discuss things without there being lots of commotion. Yes, we are different but we are ok with those differences without feeling a huge need to combat and persuade. In lots of ways we are alike too. And it is funny when we realize how similar we are.

It was a good visit with lots of good points and very relaxing. Yea!!

Rumination

I ruminate, lots. I will toss and turn things about and tear them apart and replay them mentally until I am way way way too stressed out and reading intentionality into things that were innocuously stated. Knowing that it is something I do does not make it lots easier not to do. But I can't not do it unless I would be aware of doing it, if that makes sense.

I do know I do it and I have gotten better about not doing it overly much. There are still times when something hits my triggers all just right and off I go, for a saunter down the ruminating row. I am working on reducing the disproportionate reactions I can sometimes have and to not let those hair-trigger reactions overwhelm me.

Mom and I were speaking about ruminating the other day. She pointed out that I do come from a long line of ruminators. My father and my grandfather and his mother and and and and and ... all seem to have been verbal ruminatiors and rehashers.

Although I come by it honestly, I am aware that it can be extremely unhealthy. And often times ruminating and explaining go hand in hand. Like they have here.

Anticipation

Another area that I am working on in therapy and out is anticipation. I don't mean that in a positive way. I think that we can go to the extremes with just about any thing and for me, anticipation has been something that has been troublesome rather than moderate and helpful.

By anticipation I am referring to those things where I think I know how the other person is going to react and what it is that will be said and how s/he will feel and think and based on that I then think my next thought in reaction and such and so forth. This can result in some very unsavory unfair moments. It can be extremely damaging to a relationship.

So it is something I have become aware of doing and am in the process of trying to get that under control somewhat. It isn't fair to others when I think I know how they are going to react and base my own reactions on that. Second-guessing folks isn't healthy either. I don't do that too much, I don't think, but I do anticipate and that is not fair to the other person. It doesn't give them a chance to react to stuff and make their own decisions and choices and it strips them of their autonomy to a point.

I wouldn't want someone to do something because they think they know how I would react given the choice. I would at least want the option of choosing my own thoughts, reactions, and such. So it is something I focused on today in therapy and am still thinking about at times. We will continue to discuss it next week.

Compassion

It's more than respect, kindness, caring, or even love.  It is all those things, and more.  It can be felt and shown for strangers, for friends, even for enemies.

To me, having compassion means that I can hear you.  I can listen and understand.  I can have empathy.  I can be supportive.

Being compassionate means mostly that I am there for you, in whatever way possible.   It means that small, mundane tasks are done for you, so that you don't need to focus on those things.  It means not needing thanks or gratitude or reciprocity.

Compassion means that I respect you autonomy, your choices, your decisions.  Compassion means that judgment is not passed, lectures are not given, disapproval is not expressed.  Compassion is something that we all need more of, to give more and to receive.

Compassion is unreserved.

...wha...?

For many many years, I didn't watch TV at home.  Sometimes I would see it while out, at the gym, in the doctor's office, at a friend's, ya know places where you might see a partial episode of some sit-com, and about 17 screaming obnoxious commercials.  About a month ago, I turned the TV on so that I could watch a movie on my VCR.  And WOW was I surprised...

See, since I've been here, in Mississippi, on the Farm, for the past five years, I've only had two channels (fuzzy and fuzzier).  So when I turned the TV on and a clear picture popped up, I zoned out and got sucked into the drama, drama, drama.  The sole channel is a Fox affiliate, which means I get to see such shows as American Idol, 24, House, Drive, Bones, Are You Smarter than A Fifth Grader?, and ya know, Jerry Springer, where I get to see the skanks, ho's, and boneheads go at it...just like going to the local Wal-Mart.

By far the most entertaining (and not in an intentional fashion) aspect is the commercials.  In fact, I watched one in particular over and over, paying attention to it every time it played, trying to figure out what the hell the dude is saying.  You might have wondered too.  It occupied my mind so much so that I Googled it.  That is so very sad, pathetic really.

It's the Strawberries and Cream Starburst commercial with the weird lil wired dude with the dutch-boy haircut and the colonial-cut costume.  I couldn't figure out what the hell he rapturously sings in joyous climatic screeches.  Now, now I know.

And boy, ain't my life more complete now that I know he truly is "a little lad who loves berries and cream"?

Warm Wishes for Walt

All of your warm wishes, thoughts, and prayers for Bonnie and Walt are wonderful and appreciated.  Some of you have asked for their address so that you can express your love and concern directly to them.  The hospice care will see that any cards or notes get to Bonnie and Walt.  Bonnie isn't sure which room he will be using, as of Wednesday; but we are certain that there will only be one Walter Wenzel there!!  So if you would like to send a note, please address your thoughts to:

Walter Wenzel
The Highlands at Brighton
5901 Lac De Ville Boulevard
Rochester, NY  14618

Walt is sleeping peacefully for the most part, but is aware of the love we feel for him.  Rest assured that he is receiving quality care and adequate pain medication to ensure the comfort levels are sufficient.  Bonnie appreciates all of your friendships and is glad that people are so supportive.

Near and Dear

Over the past month, I've really realized how much Walt and Bonnie have become a part of my daily life in the past year and a half.  Walt is the typer of the two, letting Bonnie know what's going on with whom and posting entries from the both of them.  They do so much together, having been married for about 37 years.  It is rare to see a couple so companionable as they are, together, and for others.

They have become true friends to me.  Walt was always present online, when I wanted to chat.  We could be serious, and contemplative.  We discussed and advised each other, counseled and shared thoughts.  He and Bonnie are so very caring and kind.

We could be silly and witty and nonsensical.  They would make me chuckle and I would keep them posted on the Furrbee Frolix.  We have become closer and closer in so many ways that it seems odd to think that we have not met in-person, face-to-face.

Over the last few months, since the Holidays, we've exchanged cards and packages.  They would send me treats for the Furrbees and tea for me.  I would send them a variety of teas that I knew they couldn't get in their area.

About a month ago, Walt was absent from IM and eMail and posted no entries.  Bonnie called me and told me that he'd had a heart attack and they were getting his diabetes under control a bit before they could do by-pass surgery.  I've used the phone more this past month than I have for years.

See, it's hard for me to use the phone.  It is much more comfortable for me to IM/eMail.  My own parents and my guy and my friends know that I don't use the phone and they expect to leave voice-mail for me if they do call, because they know that I won't even hear the phone ring, let alone answer it.  But Bonnie doesn't use the computer.  Putting aside my own trepidation and phone-phobias, I've been speaking with her fairly often.  It's the least I can do, because I wish we were closer, geographically; so that I could be there for them thru this.

Walt is dying.  They've thought and talked this through and have decided that this route is best.  So, hospice care has been providing as much comfort and kindness as possible.  Walt is at peace within his mind and spirit.  Should we all be so thoughtful when our times come.

Bonnie and Walt are so very near and dear to me in so many ways.  It's hard to say good-bye for this time, to Walt.  But I would rather know that his wishes and choices are being respected than to be selfish in my own wishes.

Go sweetly, Walt.  Love you.  Debra

Sometimes, we all need some extra thoughts and prayers...

A very dear couple who have become close friends indeed are facing some tough times.  He had a heart attack Monday and today had by-pass surgery.  It went as smoothly as to be expected.  She is coping very well and has positive outlooks.  He may be moved into a regular room on Saturday and hopefully will not need quite so many tubes and hoses and bells and whistles.  Maybe next week, he can come home.

The thing is, even in the best circumstances we all need some extra love.  Please show yours.  Drop by for a gander, leave an encouraging comment, if you would.  Bring some cheese and tea!

Spaying Stella

Stella is a little over six months old now, so it was time to spay her, especially since it's spring and love seems to be in the very air we breathe.  Or that could be the mold and pollen and other frisky frolicking microbes.  That could be a problem, thinking along the lines that love can grow on ya like mold.

So, yesterday we went back to the vet to have her staple (?!?) removed.  Yeah, when I first saw the staple sticking out of her belly, I was somewhat alarmed.  I asked the vet tech and of course googled it cuz I gotta read up on these things, ya know?

Stella is rather sweet and docile and cuddly and she is a great lap-kitty.  My mom thought she was just so soft and gentle and sweet.  Stella received lots of loving over the weekend, because she was constantly being pet and held by one or the other of us!

However, Mom also gave lots of attention to Ziggee.  She isn't a little dog kinda person.  Well, she isn't a dog sorta person at all, although she does like certain individual dogs.  She's kinda like that about people too.

Ziggee squiggled up into mom's lap a few times and she would scritch all his spots too.  He was his usual charming wriggling lil self and made mom laugh every time she saw his lil body just wiggling away, even as he walks and sits and jumps.  If he is breathing, he is wagging his entire body.  That's the charm of Ziggee.  He makes ya giggle.

Shaddow was not left out.  However she was left out of the yard a few times, with all the comings and goings of friends, strangers, and family.  So she went swimming.  Several times.  In the swampy pond.  Oh, joy!  Other than short stints in the house to eat, she spent much of her muddy fragrant time outside.

But mom pet her too and gave her treats and told her how pretty she was (albeit a bit messy at the moment).  My furrbees said, "yea!!!  gra'ma's coming to visit!!"

Furbee Frolix

I was cradling Stella, my six month old kitten, and loving on her.  Ziggee was trying to muscle in on the love and Stella was tolerant for a little bit.  Ziggee reeks, and Stella was turning her face away, then she extended her paw and pushed against his shoulder.  But Ziggee was intent on getting right in her space, so Stella bit his ear!  Ziggee yelped in surprise and pulled back fast and decided to wait for his turn.

That'll learn ya.

Grow Old with Me

...the best is yet to be...

I was listening to the song earlier, while driving home.  It made me think of my sweetie.  Mary Chapin Carpenter sings a wonderful version of this song written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon, based on a Robert Browning poem.

Rabbi ben Ezra
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be...

where oh where...

Until now, I've been posting pretty much the same entries across several formats (AIM journal, MySpace, and Blogger/Blogspot).  But, I think I will post certain sorts of things in one or the other, instead of all three.  So, this is a heads up to let you know that you might want to check myspace and/or blogger for different entries of mine.  I realize that some will not choose to access the other locations, and that is fine.  I also know that many do not have myspace accnts and cannot access my posts there, that's ok too.  If there is anything that I feel is very terribly important, I will most likely post it in all three.  In my repeated experience, blogger tends to load oh-so-much faster and give me oh-so-many fewer problems than AIM.  No surprise there.

From time to time, I will post reminders, just to let you know where and what I have posted.  I think it will help to foster more creativity on my part.  If it is too confusing or too much trouble on your part, that's okey, it's not like you have to visit any of em.  But, I'd appreciate it if you would!

Portitude

Paper Portitude is a recent stumbleupon.  There is quite a selection of classics linked there.  The short story is my current love of the literature world.
"Nevermind the musty smell; it's merely the scent of dusty books, waiting to be opened and read.

Presented to you here - in our humble library - are the classics. From the Grimm fairy tales, to the poems of Robert Frost, there's enough on our shelves to keep you occupied for long time.

You've been reading since you were a child, so this should be easy. Just pick an author, or a genre, and get started."

I've been reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Holmesian shorts.  This week, the volume is due back at the library.  In just a few moments, I plan to begin Paper Portitude's host of O Henry's "After Twenty Years".  I won't have to worry about returning that to the library, now will I?

In my life I'll love you more...

It's no secret to those who know me well that I don't think much favorably about the whole frantic activity with which we contemporarily associate Valentine's Day.  Briefly, I think it is rather pathetic that there are people who need to have a special day to remind them to be sweet to the ones they profess to love.  I suppose if Valentine's Day does serve as a time to reflect upon our own behaviour and attitudes toward the ones we love, then it may be a very good thing indeed.

Endeavor to love the ones you hold dear, every day, in all ways.  Show your appreciation, with acts of sincerity that need no obligatory Hallmark Holiday.  Startle them with a caring touch, a quick hug, a warm smile.  Enjoy the moments of peace you share, with your truly loved one.

...wha...?

Here it is, Friday!  Wednesday, I went to the new Barnes and Nobles, which is on campus.  It was the first time I'd been there.  I browsed around, briefly.  There was a table with some page-a-day calendars and boxes of holiday cards, for a buck per.  So I used my birthday gift card (given to me last November) and bought an assortment.

One of the page-a-days is devoted to Bushisms.  Today's Bushism is:

"In other words, I don't think people ought to be compelled to make the decision which they think is best for their family."

If I could, I'd show you how very ernestly I can say that.  Cuz I've the ability to say hilarious crap with a straight face.  Ya gotta, if you deal with Bush.

You've got questions, I've got answers. They might even be to those questions. We'll see

From time to time, I am asked some odd questions.  Usually, I feel they deserve equally odd answers.  Here are a few:

If I read to myself, will I go blind?
No. Unless you do it somewhere with really bad lighting.

Why should I believe in myself?
Unless you are in fact an imaginary character, you should at least suspect that you are a real person. If you manage to convince yourself that you actually exist, then you're well on the way to getting others to agree with you.  That opens the doors to all sorts of possibilities.

What do you do?

I don't do inanimate objects.  As far as people go, I'm very selective about whom I do.  I wasn't always this way.  But, I'm getting older and developing taste.

No, I meant, what do you do for money?

That depends.  Why, do you have a proposition for me?  No, forget I asked that.  I'm not going to start reverting to old habits.  That way lies yet another 12 step program.

Why won't you answer your phone when I call?

Well, the obvious answer would be, because I don't want to talk to you.  The truth is less obvious.  It's because I leave the ringer silenced, so I don't answer anyone's call. And in this case, I'm going with the obvious answer.

If you have any questions, that you'd like me to answer, feel free to ask in comments.  I may read them and laugh uproariously.  I may think, "pft".  I may even answer them, in a future blog.

Really BAD Dogs

   Meet Hal, Stella's Really BAD Dog, a refillable catnip toy.

...i was almost onto that thought, but it squirmed away...

Some days, this is how I feel...

It's a thankless job, but I've got a lot of Karma to burn off.

I started out with nothing and I still have most of it left.

Chaos, panic and disorder…my work here is done.

and so here i am at the end of the day

I've got Billy Joel lyrics looping in my mind at the moment.

Today I received a well-loved package.  In it were treats for all!  Stella loves her catnip toy and will cherish it for all time.  The pupsicles have their very own peanut butter flavored treats awaiting them.  And teas for me!!

I love tea!  sighing happily

Today, I am tired, but not that mind-numbing, drained, can't do a damned thing exhaustion that has been problematic all week.  I mean, I may even take a shower!  That's pretty damn energetic at this point!

February

Hello!

Whether it is Imbolc or Ground Hog Day for you, the beginning of February marks the midway of winter heading toward spring.  I am so ready for this winter to be over.  Mostly cuz I am immensely tired and the weather is adding to my hibernating tendancies.  But, as memom says, "don't be wishing your life away."

Hope everyone's February begins and ends nicely.

ghost busters

some thoughts regarding being ghosted...
http://blog.myspace.com/dkb1116
check it, ya know ya wanna!

awww, that's so swwweeeet

on the lighter side:

Many Weddings Set for Lucky 7-7-07

*gasp* shockingly, i am not surprised

This just in!!

"Cigarette manufacturers are increasing the level of nicotine in cigarettes..."

Cost of Depression, Global Issue

Well just in case you happen to have scads of money and are looking for something to do, there is something of interest that you can attend!

Soaring Economic Costs from Depression a Global Issue
What:	Dr. Thomas R. Insel, Director, NIMH, will present on the prevalence and global burden of depression, its enormous economic impact, and new advances in treatment at the World Economic Forum annual meeting. Depression is the leading cause of medical disability for people worldwide age 15-44 according to the World Health Organization’s World Health Report on the global burden of disease. Depression is common among the world’s population, resulting in significant economic costs. Dr. Insel will also participate in two additional sessions — one that focuses on funding for mental health research and innovation, and another that addresses urbanization from a public health perspective.
Why:	The World Economic Forum Annual Meeting, “Shaping the Global Agenda — The Shifting Power Equation.” The World Economic Forum is an independent international organization committed to improving the state of the world by engaging leaders in partnerships to shape global, regional and industry agendas (http://www.weforum.org/en/events/AnnualMeeting2007/index.htm). The annual meeting is the Forum’s flagship event that engages leaders from business, politics, religious groups and non-government organizations to shape the global, regional and industry agendas.
When:	January 24-28, 2007
Where:	Davos, Switzerland
More Info:	To arrange for an interview contact Mary Partlow, NIMH Press Office, 301-443-4536. Dr. Insel will be available for interview on-site or by phone.

lemme just say this...

do NOT ask me, "did i tell you about the last time i was feeling homocidal?"

Bringing tears to my eyes

I've been feeling out of sorts for awhile now.  There are many small reasons contribute to this off kilter sense of being.  Taken individually, or even in managable groupings, I might usually stride right along.  But taken as a rabid pack, the overwhelming image of flounding in their wake seems apt.

Just yesterday, I had eMailed a friend of mine, who is very familiar with all the goings-on at this time.  She has first hand knowledge of all the ins/outs of my particular positions and situations that occur within the realm of NAMI.  Plus, she embraces all the other oddities of being me.  I didn't have to say much about me, other than to say that 'here it is, this is how i am today' brief line or two.  In fact, I've probably written more in this post thus far about me than I did in yesterday's eMail!

The thing that choked me up, with emotional responses of relief, acceptance, and comfort was so simple.  It was a statement that I myself had made to her, awhile back.  When she was feeling similar doubts, weariness, exasperation, and smallness; I had told her something that I believe.  It is awesome that she calls my words to mind, and that they reassure her.  That means so much to me.  And, this is some of my own medicine that I'll gladly take.  Thanks for the reminder, sweeterpea.

Here it is:

To repeat what you said to me, which I often remember, with great encouragement "you are more than enough because you are mindful."  And you are.

Telling it like it is, preface

Each time that I have attempted to add an entry, I've failed.  It isn't some technical glitch of my dial-up, my service provider, nor AOL/AIM journals.  It's because of me.

It has been a long time, months, since I posted here (or anywhere) with regularity and frequency.  So now I have no idea where to start.  It is rather overwhelming, to pick up some threads that are in the midst of the weaving and try to follow things to the start or the finish.  I feel much like when I first began the whole blogging process.  That I would need to pluck and begin in the middle, and not worry overly much about explaining all the circumstances and the reasons and provide all the background and foreground.  It's enough to provide the middle ground.

Even that does not need to be complete.

Potter's Holly How as seen through Albert's eyes

Hello!

I've posted an entry elsewhere that you may want to visit.  It is about a story I just finished reading, "The Tale of Holly How" by Susan Witting Albert.  That's the second in "The Cottage Tales of Beatrix Potter" series.

resolving

If I had solved the problem in the first place, I wouldn't be faced with resolving.  Oh, wait, THAT'S not what I was going to focus on...the resolving of resolutions, such as the popular New Year's Resolution...k, here we go!

On one hand, I think that resolutions as a whole suck.  For one digit, they are usually some grand noble idea that doesn't actually have a chance of becoming realized.  Self-defeating.  On another digit (same hand), if I am going to make a change of some sort (either to begin doing or to cease doing), then why oh why would I wait til the newest year to do so?  Why put it off?  Just do it (or not, depending).

On the other hand, the new year is a beginning that many seem to acknowledge and as such may serve as a fine reminder to self-reflect and evaluate, for those who do not typically tend to indulge in those thinking processes.  If that sounds sorta snobbish, that's cuz it is.  Being snobbish doesn't mean that it is without merit, though.

On a slightly different note (would that be the ear then?), I am settling back into my routine after having been gone for over three weeks.  My animals are glad to see me, and I them.  They all need bathes in the worst way.  Shaddow has been running through the fields, swimming in swampy ponds, and getting into all manner of situations.  Ziggee has been keeping her company.  Stella has herself a staunch case of worms and fleas (from which the worms came).  They have all been treated today, but I need to have a go at it again (sorta like resolving, see cuz i didn't do it right the first time, the problem is still needing to be solved, this time i ought to buy the right medicine for the right type of worms, sillee me).

Hope all of you are having a fine new year thus far.