so, i sez to the doc

Dearest Mama,
A week ago Wednesday, the railroad ties were removed from my traintrack. No one had said anything to me about any anesthesia and the procedure was to be done in the doctor's office. As a preemptive measure, I took an 800 mg ibuprofen, just to dull the edges of any forthcoming pain.
As I was lying on the table, the doc told me the staples were definitely ready to be taken off. My body was hard at work rejecting them, pushing with all the strength the surrounding cells could muster. I told him I was regarding the site as my personal Polar Express traintrack. He paused and looked at me and said he had never heard anyone refer to it as that, but he liked it because that story was one of his family's favorites. I told him it had been one of yours as well.
So, he starts removing hardware. And removes more, moving from one side of me to the other to get a better grip on some of them. I ask what will be done with the staples and he asks if I would like them. After the briefest pause, during which I wondered if he might think me mad, I replied "sure!" Then I mentioned that I had some nephews who might get a kick out of them, but really, truly... I wanted them for ME. I wanted to be able to hold them and count them and examine them, these bits of metal which had been protecting the sutured site beneath.
Eventually, the doc tells me that the last few might hurt a little. He was impressed that I had taken measures beforehand to minimize any pain. Then he set to work, freeing those just above the pubes. Sure enough, that DID hurt, but not overly so. When he asked me if I was okay with the pain, I told him the truth: it really wasn't that much different from plucking hairs from my chin. He looked at me to see if perhaps I was joking, saw that I wasn't, and told me he had never had a patient tell him that before, either. I thought it a good comparison to liken the staple removal to facial hair maintenance. It certainly made the whole procedure more tolerable and put it into the proper perspective. You know?
All in all, not a bad experience. I think this gyn doc (David Byck, who is also Susan's gyn) has a different impression of me now and I hope he might share it with his wife, who just happens to be MY general doc. She'll get a kick out of my revelations!
That's all for now. I just wanted to share that story with you before it dimmed from memory. I know how you always loved my stories!
miss you still and love you always

postscript: In case you wondered, there were fifty-seven bird-shaped staples removed. Those silver birds are now safely caged for display!

trains, 3

My latest tattoo, courtesy of Byck & Gilbert. It's a rather expensive piece, so I don't recommend it as fluff art, but rather to commemorate a momentous occasion. I'm calling it my Polar Express train track, in memory of Mama and in honor of the season. WooOOOoo HooOOOOOOooo!


The photographs show the tattoo as the two-part session rendered it. First, with the fifty-seven silver staples serving as the ties on the track. Second, with the ties removed, allowing a softening effect. Pretty stunning!

trains, 2

Dec 10, Friday, I posted on fb: Done!!! All the Final Exams are graded, all the grades are submitted, I've even already done my syllabi for next term... whew!
Bunny, Fae, Sue (CA), Sue (ONT), and Patrick LIKED it
Hema: over achiever!
me: Not really. I have a hysterectomy scheduled for 7 am on Monday, giving me exactly 4 weeks to recover before Spring begins. WHAT was I thinking???
Hema: Oh... Good Luck! Sometimes girls have to go through this hys... stuff
Sandra: you go girl...

Dec 10, Sue (ONT) wrote to me on fb: Good Luck with the surgery ok. Love you xo. Had mine evicted on Jan 2 2007. I was so happy mine gone, for me no more pain xo. Saying prayers. xo
Dec 12, I replied: Thank you, dear! I had a "freak-out!!!" moment yesterday, but good so far today! ♥ Oh, got your package yet?
Dec 17, I replied: I now have a lovely rack of staples from my navel to my pubes, but they should be gone by the end of next week. My Aunt Linda came up from Tallahassee to stay with me and hold my hand, but she'll be leaving on Saturday for Atlanta. She has been SUCH a blessing!

Dec 12, Sunday, I posted on fb: GoLYTELY into this good day... oh, joy!

Dec 12, Sue (CA) wrote to me on fb: Hey Tina, Thank you for the gifts! The kids are very excited!! And good luck tomorrow - we're sending lots and lots of positive energy and good thoughts! Love ya - Sue
Dec 16, I replied: Hey! Home now. Which kid got which ornament (vertical rainbow, Christmas quilt, blue sky daisy)? Glad the package arrived okay!

Dec 13, Monday, Bunny posted: Feel Better Tina... We Love You!!

Dec 15, Wednesday, Sandra posted: Good morning my friend... hope you are doing well...

Dec 16, Thursday, I posted on fb: Am home! Got here yesterday... so good to NOT be in the land of beeps and bells and blood pressure cuffs!
Yvonne, Sandra, and Bunny LIKED it
Steve: glad to hear you're home,hope you're ok...if you need us, call us
me: Thanks, Steve! Keep the phone on for me! : )

Dec 16, Penny (GA) wrote to me on fb: Beeps, Bells, and Blood Pressure? Tina???? Are you okay?????
Been missing you, but just saw your facebook post and am wondering if you have been really MIA? Hope you are okay!!!! Penny
Dec 17, I replied: Abdominal hysterectomy on Monday. I now have a lovely rack of staples from my navel to my pubes, but they should be gone by the end of next week. My Aunt Linda came up from Tallahassee to stay with me and hold my hand, but she'll be leaving on Saturday for Atlanta. She has been SUCH a blessing!
Dec 17, Penny (GA) replied: Okay! Bless you. I hope the worst is behind you and that it's all smooth sailing from here. It sounds horribly painful. That is really good that your aunt came to stay with you for a time. I would offer to help this weekend but I'm headed to Columbia, SC tomorrow for the weekend. I'll be back Sunday.

Dec 17, Friday, I posted on fb: I have my very own Polar Express on my abdomen now! It'll be gone by the end of next week, though. Maybe I should take a picture??? Naw...
Amy: What's going on?
Roy: You have a new tattoo?
Deatre: The marks will still be there for years to come.
me: Just like a new tattoo!

Dec 19, Sunday, I posted on fb: My first day Home Alone... nice! I slept until almost 11 am!
Morgan, Sandra, and Emily LIKED it
Jim: Hang in there Tina. With your drive and spirit we'll see your smiling face around town soon I'm sure.
Christy: let us know if you need anything at all....
Hema: Rest well!
Christina G: I hope that means you are feeling better. Rest and get well soon.
Morgan: good times!!!
me: Thank you to all! I'm feelin' better every day (every day now)!
Morgan LIKED my comment

Dec 19, Sunday, I sent this message to many of my friends and family on fb: I wanted to make sure you knew why I was in absentia so much lately. In August, I had a diagnostic laparoscopy which confirmed that an abdominal hysterectomy was needed. I decided to have the surgery done this year, partly for cost benefit, partly to keep my May birthday and summer from being eaten up by the procedure and recovery. The surgery was to be done right after the school semester ended, giving me roughly 4 weeks of recovery. That meant I had to put in extra time to be "ahead of the curve" at the semester's end, curtailing much of my socializing the last few weeks, alas.
The surgery, on Monday 13 Dec, went for 2 1/2 hours, but the doc said he was very pleased and that "it was all a mess and really needed to come out." I've been home since 5pm Wednesday, sporting a train track (the Polar Express, I'm calling it) on my abdomen from my navel to my groin. The staples come out this week, most likely Wednesday, Dec 22. My Aunt Linda (Mama's sole surviving sibling) came up on the 9th and only just left yesterday morning for her son's family in Stone Mountain (Atlanta). She was so amazing and took such good care of me! Harry is here now and he's been most helpful and patient, too.
So, now y'all know not to expect me out and about much, but you are welcome to visit!
Dec 19, Hema replied: Thanks for letting me know. Hope you feel better soon. Merry Christmas and happy New Year! and prayers.
Dec 19, Jerry replied: Sorry to hear about your surgery, but happy to hear that you are home and doing good. Hope that you are up and out real soon. Have a Merry Christmas and New Year and take good care of yourself. Everyone needs good friends like you. Love, Mom Wiley
Dec 19, Berta replied: Hi Tina, I had missed your posts on FB! So glad the surgery was a success and hope you are well on your way to recovery! Look forward to seeing you soon! XXB
Dec 20, Sharon D replied: I'll try to get down there next week to spend an afternoon with you. Maybe I can make and bring some divinity...Thanks for the update. Love ya!
Dec 20, I replied: So THAT is how to get divinity! : ) I'll be looking forward to seeing you, dear!
Dec 20, Monica replied: I'm very happy that it turned out well - I missed your posts, too! Welcome back!!!
Dec 20: Sharon N replied: I'm glad you are back Tina!! I did wonder where you had been - honestly I will now always think of you whenever I see Polar Express!!! :) I'm glad you are recovering nicely and have your family to help. Take care! :)
Dec 20, I replied: Thanks, Sharon! : ) Polar Express was one of Mama's favorite books, so I guess it naturally came to mind whne I looked at my personal train tracks. Choo choo!!! ♥

Dec 20, Monday, I posted on fb: I have pants! Zipperless pants, as I now have my own! Warm legs again.... nice!
Bunny, Penny (GA), Lynn (T), and Sue (ONT) LIKED it
Fae: Congrats! Hope all continues to go well w/ your recovery.
Deborah: life is good
me: Life is most assuredly GOOD.

Dec 20, Sue (ONT) wrote to me on fb: Hope you're a little more comfortable now. Hope all went well too. xoxo Been saying a whole lot of prayers for you too. xo
Dec 21, I replied: Thank you, dear! ♥ The staples come out tomorrow... but I do have comfy clothes to wear!

Dec 21, Tuesday, I posted on fb: Tomorrow I lose the hardware, but keep the new Polar Express "inkless" tattoo. Wooooohoooooo! Chuchuchuchu wooohoooo!
Fae, Christina G, and Sharon D LIKED it
Christina G: Glad to hear that things are happening.
Ernest: I want one.... too.
Fae: Hope your recovery continues to go well.
me: Ernie, I suggest you get your tattoo the old-fashioned way! Thanks all for your good wishes!

Dec 22, Wednesday, I posted on fb: Fifty-seven. 57 tiny silver ties that once held the train track together. Wow.
Sharon N: Yikes Ms. Polar Express!!
night though. If I can do anything let me know. Keep healing!!! Penny

Dec 24, Patrick wrote to me on fb: Dr Smith, I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and let you know you are in my thoughts and prayers. Hope you have a speedy recovery from your surgery. -Patrick

trains, part 1

Here's a joke told to me some time ago, but having relevance these days.

Roy Rogers' Boots

One day Roy Rogers was passing the boot maker's shop when he noticed a pair of boots in the window that were the most beautiful he had ever seen. He entered the shop and told the proprietor that he must have the boots that were in the window. The proprietor said the boots were made for someone else, but, if they fit Roy, he could have them and he would make a new pair for the other customer.
So Roy proudly left the shop wearing his new boots. However, on the way back to his ranch, it began to rain and as he walked up to the ranch house, his new boots got all muddy. He left them on the porch and entered the house. While he was eating his dinner, a bobcat snuck up onto the porch and grabbed the boots in his mouth and ran off with both of them.
Fortunately the cook saw the theft and called Roy. Roy was livid. He whistled for Trigger and took off at a gallop after the bobcat. A few hours later he returned with a dead bobcat across the front of his saddle. The once beautiful boots were hanging out of the saddle bags. They were torn to shreads. As he rode up, the cook hailed Roy.
When the cowboy drew near the cook shouted, "Pardon me, Roy, is that the cat that chewed your new shoes?" (sung to the tune of "Chattanooga Choo Choo")

frantic

The day is fast approaching when I will have yet another invasion into my body to remove an organ run amok. This time, it'll be the 'girl' parts: both ovaries, the uterus, and the tubes between. Mama's sister is coming to hold my hand and reassure that all will be well... and yet I find myself on edge. My bird has arranged to take the day off to be at the hospital with us... and still I worry. I've taken the time at school to prepare ahead for next semester, just in case... just in case of what? I don't know.
And that's really the long and the short of it. I DON'T KNOW. I don't know how this bout of abdominal intrusion will affect me. How quickly will I recover at my age? What happens in the hole left by the missing parts? Won't other parts sag in to that emptied space, possibly disrupting body functions? How long will I be under the influence of anesthesia? How long will I suffer the aftereffects of going under? Should I stay at my house or elsewhere? When will I be able to drive my stick-shift again? How long am I to be a disruption to the lives of those who love me?
I've arranged for this to take place during this long break from school, giving myself four full weeks to become fully mobile. What if that isn't long enough???
And there is the crux of the matter. I am playing "what if" and driving myself to distraction. I really don't have time for this mentally exhausting game, yet I cannot pull myself from the lip of the abyss. Perhaps it's time for bed.

rorschach moment

Rorschach
1927, in reference to Swiss psychiatrist Hermann Rorschach (1885-1922), who developed the personality test using ink blots. The town so named on the Swiss side of Lake Constance is from an early form of German. Röhr "reeds" + Schachen "lakeside."
Online Etymology Dictionary, © 2010 Douglas Harper



Breathe. Breathe again, deeper and slower this time, like you mean it. Feel better? That's the power of the blue and green marble, being itself and restoring your soul along the way.

refreshed!

I've just returned from celebrating my bird's birthday in Orlando... how nice to visit other (Sea)Worlds!

Make your own slideshow

alien eviction

Thanks to aliens in my body, I am going under the surgeon's knife at 10am. Aliens? You bet. According to the dictionary online, "alien" is defined as "unlike one's own; strange; not belonging to one". I can assure you these growths in my body are NOT like the normal cellular tissue occupying the surrounding tissue.
With the surgeon's help, the aliens will be issued an eviction notice tomorrow morning, effective post-haste. No squatters allowed, ya hear?!
I'll let you know of the eviction's success tomorrow, hopefully.

scars

I've taken to a new police show, mostly because it features that fellow from "My Name Is Earl" and because it's set in Memphis, a town I'd like to visit for several reasons. In tonight's episode, more than one character espouses the following aphorism: The scars of our youth never go away.
Well, OF COURSE the scars never go away! The only way to be rid of a scar is to involve a plastic surgeon and much money. That would result in removal of the scar, but hopefully not the lesson learned when the scar was obtained. Because THAT is the true measure of a scar: the very personal life lesson imparted at some point in one's own history.
That small one on my forehead, near the hairline? That was from chicken pox when I was just in my teens and my youngest brother shared the malady with me and my brothers. That lesson was don't mash facial bumps unless you KNOW what they are.
The faint line across the back of my left hand was the result of a burn obtained in the chow hall kitchen during service week in boot camp. Yeah, I should have checked the temperature of that rack near the rolling oven BEFORE I tried to push it out of the way.
The inch-long ovoid on my upper left arm? Well, that's the result of having a mole removed.. and removed... and removed. No, it didn't grow back; it just took that many swipes with a surgeon's blade to get down to skin free of abnormal cells. Wear sunscreen! It's not just for the fair-skinned.
The four little marks, midway down, on my right torso? Those are from the eviction of my gallbladder three years ago. The lesson there is know your family history. Both maternal AND paternal, because both have a hand in YOUR future medical aches and diseases. My father's sister had that same surgery, at about the same age as I did, but I didn't know because the family had lost touch with her. (Not any more!)
Scars remind us of foibles on our path to become the person we are today. Wear them with pride - they are the proof of your resiliency.

love lost

Just last night, I attended a musical unlike any I have ever seen. Titled "The Last Five Years", it dealt with love found and love lost. The playwright approached this common enough theme in a most unusual manner, using time and perception to examine the theme. Here's how it went: in each scene, the two characters interact, but are out of synchronicity with the event at hand. For the male, time progressed forward, from the moment of first love to the end of the relationship. For the female, time passes in reverse, allowing us a vision of the end in the opening scene of the play.
Quite a different approach to exploration of the interactions of men and women. This is a fairly new play, having its debut in 2001, a scant decade ago. It is also set in the modern day, rather than some other time frame.
But, the most unusual part of this theatrical work is this: it is a musical. Yes, you read that correctly - a MUSICAL! I have loved musicals since I was a girl, whether they are tragic or light or inane, so this drew my attention right away. I had deliberately not read any reviews or history of the play, so it could present itself to me unshaded by the bias of others. And I completely enjoyed it, though it was terribly sad on occasion. I know I will go to this play in the future, when some other theatre puts on the show and it'll be interesting to see how my knowledge of its workings will alter my interpretation. Theatre is such a LIVE creature, mutating with its players into a slightly different beast with each outing!

spots

Just a few days ago, whilst searching for something else, I stumbled upon a very interesting blog of a fellow in Utah. In turn, his writings led me down the rabbit hole, so to speak, to an even more interesting site with contributions from him and his coworkers. What fun! Disney Princesses that kick butt (i.e., as Tarantino would have them do!) had pictures that begged me to comment... so I did.
Then it was onward, deeper into the madness, until I came upon Twilit and this particular post that didn't "get" the attraction to Edward Cullen. I responded that it wasn't the man's appearance that was the attraction, au contraire mon frere. No, the reason women (and girls) were swooning had everything to do with the words emanating from those full, kissable lips, the romance dripping from every utterance of the character. As I said then, and say now, even if I come off as a cougar because of the disparity in our ages, I find myself attracted to the CHARACTER, not the actor. And, as the CHARACTER is a couple of centuries old, youthful appearance aside, then, in truth, I am more like a kitten than a cougar.
I had always thought it would be cool to be a cat, grace in every smallest motion. That is, until I actually owned a cat and found it to be every bit as much of a klutz as myself. The beast persisted in trying to leap onto shelving, knocking off gizmos and breaking more delicate items. So much for the stereotype!
I do find myself looking more like some of my favorite cats of the wild: tigers and leopards. Their coloration is beautiful! Stripes of varying width or spots of all sizes, arising in stark contrast to the tawny coat below... I always thought it would be nice if people could have such great color schemes, with each person having their own special mixture. There would be no more differentiation of races, and THAT would certainly be a refreshing change. Can you imagine a society void of racial strife? Nor can I, but I can continue to hope for the best in the future.
Meanwhile, I have become more and more like a variegated beast as the years have passed. I have always, since my birth, been a spotted animal, with my moles and freckles. And in the past couple of decades, some of those moles have changed and had to be removed, leaving different spots in their stead. Various bouts under a surgeon's knife have given me small stripes in several places on my body and right foot.
Giving the matter more thought, I realize: I have been the mythical spotted and striped being all my life! As well as the moles and freckles I have had my whole life, I've also had tan lines, too! Well, in that case, I cannot be regarded as just one color, can I? I think not! The next form which asks which race I belong to, I'm going to respond "other" and write in... leppard.

"nothing" is NOTHING

You hear folks say it all the time: "Oh, that's nothing."
The scientists with the Hubble telescope wanted to see if that was true. Specifically, they wanted to see if a place in space that LOOKED empty really was. That is, a space that looked empty not just to our bare eyes but to those of this powerful lens. So, back in 2002, they pointed the magnificent instrument toward just such a place near the constellation known as Ursa Major. For ten days - TEN DAYS - of valuable time, the scope was pointed at "nothing", collecting data from "nothing", in an experiment which many thought to be a waste of resources.
But, when the collector plate was developed, the "empty space" was FULL of galaxies. There wasn't 'nothing" there, there was a lot of SOMETHING.
To paraphrase Jack Skellington, "Just because I cannot see it, doesn't mean I can't believe it!" The only thing which has nothing is a vacuum... but it's difficult to get a true vacuum that is completely void of all molecules.
The same holds true for space. When we see a velvety black spot amid the twinkling bits of starlight and moondust, that spot is actually full of stars - no, of entire galaxies of stars - that our eyes cannot detect. Just because we cannot detect something with our five (or even six) senses, doesn't mean something isn't there.
The scientists repeated their experiment two years later, this time pointing at a different bit of darkness and allowing the collector to gather data for three months. That's right, THREE MONTHS of the scope doing ONE experiment. The results are the Hubble Ultra Deep Field. Amazing... and quite humbling to those who are only too well aware of our bumbling efforts on this one, truly special, magical planet. We are so blessed to be living in such a heavenly site.

well, hell

If there's one thing I've learned after all these years on this lovely orb, that one thing would be: Everything is subject to change.
Not even a week after my last trip to this oh-so-peaceful shore, I found myself on the road again. ON THE ROAD AGAIN. After pledging NOT to do so for a while.
Ya see, it's like this. I've been seeing my bird since early March of 2009 and I had not yet met ANY of his family. True, none of them live IN Charleston, but he does have a sister who lives just an hour away. I did get to talk to her on the phone once, but we have not yet met. Nor had I met anyone he's known for more than a few years. But he HAS met almost all of my people. So you see the disparity.
Well, when he phoned to "remind" me of the family reunion in Atlanta that was coming up on the 3rd of July, I told him that I would not be going. First, reference this. Secondly, it wasn't even HIS family reunion, it was that of his brother-in-law's family. Ergo, we would be reunion-crashers. AND I was dealing with surgery jitters and other medical maladies. (I had brought a brown recluse spider back from Tennessee, apparently, and it had bitten me near my navel. No, I had not yet seen my doctor about it, but I had an appointment with her on the 6th for a different matter and thought I would bring up the bite then. Meanwhile, I was taking very good care of it.) I also still felt like part of my getting lost in my travels was somehow my bird's fault, for not being with me, so I had some misplaced and undeserved - admittedly, but nonetheless - anger in his direction.
So, there I am, on the phone trying to nurse this grudge and he says: "it would really mean a lot to me for you to come with me. I really want you to meet my baby sister." I'm telling ya, if you had heard him, you would totally understand why I couldn't say no... and while I didn't say "yes", I did say MAYBE. He had to make sure it would be okay if his sister brought not one, but TWO reunion crashers, and make all the arrangements before I would say okay.
And he did. And we went. And I had a great time! I really enjoyed meeting his sister and her husband and their granddaughter. I really enjoyed meeting their cousin and his wife, also crashing the reunion. I really enjoyed time spent with various members of the brother-in-law's family, participating in the scavenger hunt (and helping the winner succeed!), eating some mighty tasty ribs, and... singing karaoke. That's right, I got behind that microphone and SANG and thoroughly enjoyed myself, beginning with "Rockin' Robin"! Once the Soul Man knew I would sing, he kept asking me to come on up, and you betcha I did. I remember doing "Stop, In The Name Of Love" and seems there was at least one other before my finale of "Lean On Me" just before we departed. Mind, these weren't songs I selected. Oh, no, these were chosen FOR me by the karaoke host. But of course I knew the songs - they were all classics I had grown up hearing, right here in this Southern city by the sea.
Yeah, it meant a lot to my bird to have me flying alongside... and it meant a lot to me to be there, too.

here I am!

I don't know why I haven't been here lately, but there ya go. I seem to be spending a lot of time on the computer, but it's all email and facebook and eBay amd craigslist - not my beach. I've gotten some more travel in, too - but not to my beach.
It isn't that my beach has been far from my thoughts. Never! I've just been too wrapped up with other agendas. I want to come to my beach, I'll even have topics to put forth in black and white, but something else always seems to beg my attention first. Well, I need to do better about that. I do, indeed. My beach is MY time and it belongs on my calendar at least as much - if not more! - as all the other things vying for my attention. As i do keep mentioning elsewhere, there are so many CHOICES of wonderful events to attend and people to see and places to be... but there is only ONE me.
These past two weeks, I have spent more time at home, after losing twenty hours of my life on the road between Pigeon Forge and home. True, the time spent in Tennessee was quite enjoyable and I spent that time with people I love who love me, so that part was all good. But the trip itself, trapped in a hot car, was the absolute pits. I drive a stick shift, so traveling mountain roads for three hours in the dark to get there, coupled with incredibly asinine road delays, was extremely tiring to my thighs and to my nerves. Thank God for my ex-sister-in-law's mom and sister and the jacuzzi or I might not have ever regained my sanity.
As bad as the trip up there was, the trip back was even worse. I again found myself cursing and driving and crying, this time in the heat of the day, all morning, all afternoon, and most of the evening. I, like most of the rest of the party, had decided to take a differnt way back home, to avoid the problems encountered on the drive up. Well, that sounds good in theory, but in practice, it really didn't alleviate the problem. Basically, I detest driving in mountains. Moreover, although I regard mountains as beautiful, I just don't find myself drawn to them like I am to beaches. This was my second trip to mountains in less than two months and I consider myself DONE with that for a while. (At least, I hope so, but I may have another trip soon enough to see an ailing friend.)
(Deep breath.) So, the one thing that helped me endure the ELEVEN hour trip back to home was this: I resolved to not travel ANYWHERE for at least three weeks. Not to Beaufort, not to Charleston, not anywhere out of Savannah. My bird laughed at the idea, but I've stuck to my guns on this one. Maybe it was the heat exhaustion, maybe it was the total lack of familiarity with my surroundings and no one to read the map for me... maybe it was jitters over some upcoming surgery. I think it was a combination of all those things and probably a few more that led to my resolution.
I sure miss Mama.

happy birthday!!!

What a fabulous month I have had! I feel so very loved, and so very blessed, and so very fortunate to have the people I have, and have had, in my life. I could not be who I am today without all of them.
I have been to Beaufort, Bluffton, Charleston, Tybee Island, San Francisco, Yosemite National Park, Las Vegas, and Myrtle Beach. I am blessed to be in the company of a bird that likes flying off hither and yon about as much as I do... maybe even more so!
What a wonderful beginning of my new year!

more chocolate wisdom

Earlier, I had logged in several words of wisdom, found on the inner foil of some delectable dark chocolate. Here, I continue wandering along that path.
"Joy is found in the smallest of moments. Like now!" Ashley, Sumter, SC A "moment" is so much nicer than just a "block of time"!
"Chocolate-coated truth tastes better." Amy, Shawnee, KS Don't believe me? See the previous paragraph!
"Silence might be golden, but laughter is priceless." Aubrey, Mesa, AZ Bonus: good, hearty laughter releases endorphins, making you FEEL better. True!
"Walk with a light step and a lighter heart." Fontana, Winter Springs, FL Worry is such a heavy package to lug around, and it's usually awkwardly shaped, too and difficult to hold, like invisible trees.
"Even small celebrations deserve a dance." Laureli, Spring Grove, PA Snoopy certainly knew this, even dancing when he got his supper - that someone else made especially for him. That is certainly worth a celebratory jig!
"Celebrate the small victories in your life." Debbie, Fairfield, OH Yes,indeed! Like that wonderful parking space right THERE!
"Do something for someone less fortunate today." Lori, Cheboygan, MI Done solely for the benefit of one's own heart, this is a real pick-me-upper AND reaffirms your sense of place in the world.
"A smile is the best accessory." Emily, New York, NY A smile is something that cannot be taken from you, either, or misplaced. And the most wonderful part? When you GIVE a smile, you GET one back!
"Try something new today." Paula, Rio Rancho, NM Even if it's just a new path home from work, expand your experiences!
"Keep looking forward - new adventures lie ahead." Becky, Valdosta, GA No sense dwelling on the past and missing the present - there's no future in that way of living!
"Inspire others to be their best by being your best." Christina, New York, NY yeah, I know, this is sometimes easier said than done... but keep trying!
"Promise to stop and smell the chocolate." Marie, Manahawkin, NJ Or the roses or the petunias or whatever lovely scent wafts in your direction... Aaahhhh!
"Dare to dream and go for it." Patricia, Jasper, TN No one can foretell the future, but most people say it's the decisions they didn't make that they regret. Don't leave room for regret!
"Life does have do-overs." Sharon, St. Joseph, MO As long as you are still on this planet, you do have the opportunity to rectify any wrongs. No, you cannot erase the past, but you CAN alter your present path.
"All things work together in the tapestry of life." Christine, Durham, NC Amen to that! The good, the bad, and the ugly are all part of the package as we spiritual beings have our physical experiences on this third rock from our sun.

it's a new day!

Yes, indeed. Thank God the sun came up and it was a new day and I awoke to see it! Yesterday was the TENTH Mother's Day since Mama died.
I would say that I am just so OVER the whole Mother's Day thing, but I cannot. So many women who are dear to me are mothers themselves. So, henceforth, I shall celebrate the day in honor of them, and in remembrance, always, of my own dear Mother. Happiness and appreciation for all Mothers, for without them, we could not exist.

blessed

Dearest Mama,
What a wonderful day I've had! Not that it's been anything spectacular, but it's been filled with small blessings.
This morning I spent working around the house. One day last week, I looked around and realized with a start that I did NOT want to come home to this clutter! So I took some time this morning to sort through the piles of paperwork in the dining room, in the living room, in the office. My, my, my! I don't know why I feel compelled to hang on to old bills for electricity, gas, cable. Lord knows, if they don't receive my payment, they will surely let me know. So, to the shredder with them! Then sort and file, sort and file, repeat.
I took a time-out to talk with my Pooler friends, the ones I usually meet for breakfast. Bu the children were off the chain this morning, so the parents had decided to divide and conquer, with the mom keeping the daughter home while the dad and son took a breather. I went ahead and ate my own breakfast, then back to the paperwork.
I received a call around lunch time form my stepmom. She had called to thank me for the Mother's Day card and the 2003 photo of her and Daddy. I had emailed the picture to her earlier this week and she had been so enthusiastic about it that I decided she should have it. You know, after seeing Grandpa in the hospital, how sad it is to have a recurrent mental picture of a loved one dying. I keep happy pictures of you around for that very reason: to scare away those of you sick and so very weak. It works most of the time.
After that call, I decided it was time for a break, so I took myself to a movie. I used one of my Regal discount coupons, to keep the cost down, and guess what? The manager entered some code that let me have the movie for FREE! What a nice little perk! So I went ahead and treated myself to the kid's popcorn & coke special. The movie, "The Losers", was action-packed and reminiscent in style of the graphic novel of origin. I have discovered that I REALLY like those types of movies! I think you might have liked it, too, since you had enjoyed the "Mission: Impossible" movies.
So, as I was waiting for the movie to begin, I saw a commercial for the Outback Steakhouse on the screen. "After the movie," it said, "bring your ticket stub to the Outback and get a free appetizer with your meal." Hey! That sounds like a deal too good to pass up! Take the stub of my free ticket and parlay it into free eats!
Hey, why not? I had already planned to take myself to dinner, though I was thinking Bonefish Grill. Why? Quite simply, they were treating me to a free appetizer in honor of my upcoming birthday. I also had a balance remaining on one of my gift cards I had purchased when they had the special discount at the end of the year; I wanted to go ahead and use up the card before starting another. So, you see, I had dinner plans already...and the two restaurants are in the same family, so my gift card was ALSO good at the Outback! Sah-weet!
So, I had a great dinner after a most enjoyable movie, then came home and my bird called and I shared my goings-on with him. Then I was sorting out a junk drawer and came upon an unlabeled cd.. which were the voices of YOUR mom and dad and Uncle, all long departed. I listened to the whole thing, even the songs Grandpa sang off-key at the end. I'm going to try to post them on youtube and then share them with all the family.
What a blessed day!
with much love always,
T

confusion

I am so confused. I have thought it was Thursday ALL DAY LONG.
It all started last night. Philo Cafe, the philosophy group I have attended most Wednesday nights for the past three years, has changed things up on me. After meeting at the same locale, same night, same time, last week they met on a different day, different time, different location. OMG! Still, even though I knew of the change, it only glancingly affected me. They met on a Monday, when I was at work, therefore I did not attend. It wasn't until last week Wednesday that the change had its effect. My habit of joining them at a local restaurant after the meeting (which generally coincided with my departure from the school) was rendered pointless, as the group had met two evenings earlier.
So here we are at this week. The meeting was on Monday, at the usual time and usual site. Okay! Different day, but same people, so all was good... or so I thought. The evening ran long and I stayed up to my usual late time.
However, I had to get up early for a doctor appointment. And this morning was when the sense of disorientation wrapped its foggy arms all around me. Between the lack of sleep and the change to my Monday schedule, I truly didn't KNOW it was Tuesday. My head kept telling me "Thursday! Yeah, it's Thursday! This week is almost over!" Wrong, but my body believed the lie, because... habits take time to change. For the past three years, meeting with the Philo folks has been synonymous with mid-week event. Now i have to try to find SOMETHING to get me back on track. After all, tomorrow IS Wednesday, when I am scheduled to administer a final exam to some of my students. I'm pretty danged sure they would like me to show up! But I'll only be there if I can convince myself that it's actually Wednesday, not Friday. Oh, bother! (as Winnie the Pooh would say)

persistence of grief

It's been six years since Gloria's death. It was a beautiful Friday afternoon in April. She had been to the bank ATM, then driven straight to the grocery store around the corner. A group of youths waited until she came out of the store, then accosted her. She was shot in the chest and killed by a teenaged boy near the age of some of her grandchildren, which included one of my nephews.
Her husband still mourns her death. I know this because a memorial wreath stands sentinel in the grassy patch near that store. That wreath has followed in the tradition of those before it in that locale, bearing witness to the permanent repercussions of a moment of barbarism.
I have to wonder how much longer the wreaths will be placed there, how much longer her husband will express this open wound in his soul, how much longer until the hole in his heart has healed enough to allow a regular heartbeat.
I know it took a long time after my mother's death for my heart to beat as my own again. I was fortunate to have so many supporting me during my long struggle to accept her death. A year passed, and another, and yet another, and still I mourned. I had not realized until she was gone that she, not myself, was the center of my universe. She was my sounding board, my assurance that my actions and thoughts and feelings were real and valid and valued. I had a deep, dark hole of loss that threatened to devour me if I could not develop a sustainable patch.
In the fifth year of my grief, I received an unexpected kindness that allowed me to physically revisit a duty station and some old memories from my twenties and to create new ones in their stead. These would be new memories with ME at the core, new experiences for ME in an old haunt, with my actions void of thoughts of cataloguing to later share my experiences with Mama. I do believe that saved my sanity and possibly my life.
I am truly blessed to have known the people I have known, both now and in the past.

May day

Dear Daddy,
What a glorious day this has been! True, I did sleep through much of the morning hours, but that left me refreshed for the day's activities. Yes, I did have hotdogs for breakfast, but they were 98% fat-free, giving me lots of protein. A much better breakfast than I would have had out and about, I'm sure, where butter and cheese lurk around the edges of 'most everything.
My backyard neighbor was cutting my grass as I was having my coffee. I felt a bit guilty about that. I had fully intended to get up early and try to work on my lawnmower, maybe see if that blade I was given was even the right size. Yeah, I know: I should have already done that by now, but I can ALWAYS find a reason not to.
Anyway, I went out to thank him, yet again, for making my backyard beautiful, yet again. He told me he liked doing the work and actually tried to do it when he knew I was gone because he didn't want me to feel like I was obligated to try to do something nice in return. Well, I asked if it were okay if I treated him and his family to dinner and he grudgingly said okay. I gave him one of the Bonefish Grill gift cards and a little money, but I had tucked the money in the card holder so neither of us had to actually look at the amount. I do hope he and his wife and daughter will have a lovely evening out. They have been so very gracious to me, especially since your death. He lost his dad last year, too, so please let his dad know he has a good kid on this planet.
So, I have breakfast and get busy with my eBay work on this lovely first day of May. I just cannot tell you how very glad I am that a new month has begun! Then again, you already know how hard April was and how very glad I am to be shed of it. Between your birthday the first week and your death the last week, there was so much heartache in between. I sure miss you.
Anywho, I finally got caught up with my computer works and decided that a movie was just what I needed. So, I go looking for movies and realize that I'm looking for times for "Oceans", the new Earth Day release. Not in a single cinema in Savannah. Not one. All these multiplexes and NOT ONE had the film!!! But the little cinema in Bluffton did! So, I called your wife to see if she might like to meet me there, as we have done from time to time, and lo and behold! She said YES! Out the doors we both flew! The cinema is about an hour away and the start time of the film was scheduled for an hour's time, giving us barely enough wiggle room. And, amazingly, we both made it in good time, even getting popcorn and cokes and finding seats before the lights went down. The film was WONDERFUL and she told me she could always count on me to pick a movie that she would like...and I do try to do so, because I truly enjoy her company and we have such a good time on our outings.
I know that technically she's my stepmom, but she would be the first to say we are friends more so than relatives. I fully agree. Friends are the family YOU pick, not the ones thrust upon you by genetics, and we two ARE friends. We've helped each other get through this past year, this first year without you physically in our lives. It's been tough at times, but knowing we were in it together always helped.
You know, she insisted on treating me to dinner, calling it my birthday dinner. talk about being the first to wish me birthday greetings!!! Still, she's right, we won't see each other then. My singing bird is doing up my birthday this year, taking me to Myrtle Beach for Dixie Stampede and the aquarium and waking up to ocean sounds. He's Plum good to his Peach, ain't he?
So my stepmom, my friend, takes me to dinner and we have a very nice Italian meal, with lots of excellent bread and flavor. Oh, and this mayonnaise with chipotle peppers that was - mmmuummff!! - que bella! We both ended up with a meal for later.. maybe later tonight! - and full tummies, and maybe just a wee spot left for a sweet something or other. And wasn't that a cookie shop around the corner?? Sure enough! We split a Millionaire cookie, full of chocolate and caramel and I don't remember what all made up its yumminess. Very nice!
After, we went our separate ways,
she back to her new home, me to a games night with friends.
I enjoyed the drive home, the color of the blue sky and the new green of the trees
and the warmth of the sun through the slight cool of the breeze.
And I thought to myself how very fortunate I am
to have her in my life
to have my singing bird in my life
to have new friends in my life.
I am so blessed that my mayday was heard
and I was given this May Day.
Word!
Yeah, I know, I just can't help myself sometimes. I didn't mean to go into a rhyme scheme, but, there ya go.
With my love always,
your one-and-only, ever-lovin' daughter

hotdogs 4 breakfast

Hotdogs for breakfast, changing up my schedule,
trying to jump start a change in me.
My body is changing, being rebellious,
growing new life-forms unbidden by me.

Like mother, like daughter,
in ways good and not,
seeking change at my own bidding
not by a clock.

I keep looking for meaning in my life,
I keep looking for direction in my life,
I keep looking.

How will I know when I find my course?
How will I know to stop opening doors?
How will I?

I feel like I've been sleepwalking
through my life for years
I'm opening my eyes now
my sight blurry from tears.

I find myself an orphan
my parents gone
a true end of my childhood
and loss of my home.

Home is where the heart is
and my heart is wandering blind
I once knew where I belonged
but that was once upon a time
now.

Hotdogs for breakfast.

I attended the 6th Annual Spoken Word Festival Open Mic tonight. I was treated to a wide range of styles of poetry, lyrics, poetic prose from an even wider range of people. Mothers reading poems for their daughters. Barely-teens giving voice to their hopes. Twenty-somethings ranting about social injustice, politics, religion. Folks talking about finding love, making love, losing love. Theatrical works in the space of minutes. Very inspiring and begs the question: how to hear more of this? How to be a participant? My penning above began on my drive home and, quite literally, wrote itself as I typed. Maybe I'll take up an open mic one night. Maybe.

pecha kucha and suaf

Tonight was definitely a little something different! Actually, it was a LOT different. I've been trying out some new things this month - hey, it's April and I need the distraction, you know? - and there's been plenty vying for my attention. Oddly enough, much has been free. Incredible!
As I said earlier, the SUAF is in town this week, here in the C-Port, as they say. last night I saw P.A.T.H.: A Hip-Hop Documentary at a venue that is fast becoming one of my favorites. Honestly, Indigo Arts has SOMETHING going on EVERY NIGHT. Anyone who says they can't find anything to do here isn't looking, apparently, because I find so much that it's difficult to choose.
Anywho, the film was a documentary about a school dedicated to preserving, archiving, and teaching hip-hop history. Shot in Miami, it followed four instructors as they impressed upon a class the value and rationale behind rapping, break dancing, graffiti writing, and emceeing. What was the most phenomenal aspect of the film was the fact that TWO of the four teachers were WOMEN. Wow.
So, as I'm walking out to my car, I'm looking up into the night sky and thinking, man, Sam, would have really liked that! And into my head I hear "two turntables and a microphooone", that standard tagline, and I just lost my mind for a while. But that's not what I'm talking about right now, so don't bother trying to change my mind.
This morning, on my way to work after my GYN appointment - nope, not gonna talk 'bout THAT right now, either - I grabbed a day-old copy of the entertainment paper to see what was up in this fair city these next seven days. Lo and behold, it had three events for me! All were about the same start time, so I would have to choose carefully how to arrange my evening. I decided The OFFICIAL Savannah Urban Arts Festival LAUNCH PARTY JAM SESSION, slated to begin at 9pm, would be the place to finish up, narrowing my choices for 8pm down to two. Well, I've seen "Back To The Future" several times, and, as much fun as it would have been to see it on a big screen again.. well, that was the key word. "Again". Yeah, let's opt for something DIFFERENT.
So I went to Indigo Arts for show and tell for grown-ups. Truly, that was how the event was billed. It's actually called Savannah Pecha Kucha Night, and this is the fifth time the ever-unique event has been held. Here's the premise: You get roughly seven minutes to tell an audience about something, anything, then it's someone else's turn. No Q&A, no drawn-out explanations. You provide up to twenty slides about your topic and you get twenty seconds to say your piece about each - then you're off the stage and someone else goes on.
I had initially thought it would be a meeting of would-be entrepreneurs and angels, but that was decidedly not the case. Instead, I saw presentations by nine people, all different, all interesting. Briefly, here's the line-up: Chalk drawings of chairs in empty rooms; The wards (squares) of Savannah (a 1985 thesis); How-to write a picture book about a little dog; Amorphous prints on wood; Bringing the 16-foot Elvis head to Los Angeles from Mississippi (in a blue 1953 pick-up truck named Maybelle, no less!); Listerine and the use of "halitosis" in marketing; Teaching block printing in India; Bits of Georgia history; and Photographs shot locally. Wow! Almost two hours, including intermission, of fun, for free. You better believe I'll keep my eyes looking for news of the next PKN!
The off I went to the American Legion, host site of OFFICIAL SUAF launch Party Jam Session. Featuring local hip-hop masters Dope Sandwich and the release of their new CD, I was amazed the place wasn't packed. Seriously! Where were all the students and young folk? Here was a party event, a FREE party event, with not one but several live performers, in a hall for 300. They truly missed out. The party went on until almost midnight, y'all!
There were at least six performers, I think. Let me see if I can name all of them. Daniel Coleman, smooth and lyrical, also a film maker. Brandywine, the official house band for the party, proud to be the support group for MC's. The Chatham County Bosses, a trio of young guys running fast toward the top, especially with their song "Savannah". KidSyc, a fabulous wordsman with a LIVE BAND. WOW!!! And, playing some songs from their latest compact disk, "The Union of Sacred Monsters", the inimitable Dope Sandwich. Hey, I got mine at the show and it was only $5. What a deal!

suaf'ed

I feel like I stepped into a time capsule tonight. Tonight was the second evening of events for the Savannah Urban Arts Festival. Since a film was to be shown, I, of course, was in attendance. Even though this was a "school night", I managed to find a quick route from AASU (far southside)to Indigo Arts (downtown and north). To my surprise and delight, I had missed NONE of the film! A workshop on graffiti writing had run long, due to the enthusiastic crowd participation, so I was able to enjoy the last of that event as well as decompress from my mad rush to get there.
I was also able to enjoy the works of Roosevelt Watson III, before and after the film. Vibrant canvases, of all sizes, were splashed on the dark walls of Indigo Arts! Nice. The artist's bio was mounted to the wall, so, of course, I read it and was quite impressed with his mission statement. To wit: “My paintings are representative of the spirit of us all. I use the Abstract/Surrealism styles to get my point across... that we are so different but yet the same, shown with many colors and textures, and shapes, yet coming from one thought source. My colors are vibrant, just as our spirits used to be as children. The textures are the physical aspect of our world which makes the paintings life like. The shapes are every where and just plain enjoyable; hence, we are all very colorful, physical, and shapely which I convey in an abstract/surreal fashion." What an incredible world view!
Now, on to the film! A 1983 winner at the Sundance Film Festival, "Style Wars" chronicled both sides of the dispute between graffiti artists and the New York Metro Transit Authority. My opinion mirrored that of the young visitor from France, who stated that the graffiti-drenched subway trains were to be enjoyed, not washed bland. (Well, I paraphrase, but you get my drift.)
I'm glad I was able to be there, even though I felt dipped in past time. I'm sure Sam Johnson would have, and perhaps has, enjoyed it very much. What a fitting thing for me to do on this day. I feel so much better than I did this morning!

awake

Sometimes, I feel disconnected, like I'm living in a dream, waiting to wake up. Lately, that feeling was been all over me. I find myself still up at 2am, forcing myself to go to bed. Heaven knows I would stay up all night otherwise. I've even been turning on my heated bed pad, to help lure me in.
This week, in particular, I've had death on my mind. The 15th was the third anniversary of Mother Pat, my ex's mom, who died scant months before our marriage passed away. Monday will be the 19th, the anniversary of Sam's death. The 26th will mark a year since my father's death.
Perhaps my reluctance to go to sleep is this: if I persist in staying awake, perhaps I will truly wake up and find so much has been a dream. After all, going to sleep is caving in to reality, accepting the new status quo. No one actually dreams of going to sleep, do they? No, of course not. People dream of doing things, of alternate paths trod, of new endings to current stories. So, if I can keep busy enough that I don't dwell on past losses, isn't that a form of denial? And isn't denial a part of being in a dream state?
So, if I don't sleep, then I must yet be dreaming...

toad

Yesterday was Toad's first birthday! I remember his "birth" as if it were yesterday... I had been talking to my singing bird the night before and he had suggested that I get a bear to cuddle up with at night. I thought that was a pretty good idea, but told him I didn't know if that would work because I didn't think there were any bears with moustaches! We both laughed, but I knew where I would be going right after to work: to the Build-A-Bear Workshop at the old mall.
And so I did. Oh, my, the many choices!!! Not just bears, but other animals, too! Whoa... So, I took my time. After all, this was going to be my snuggle buddy and it had been a very long time since I had a bear. Oh, yes, I flirted with the idea of some other critter, but a bear was the snuggliest of them all and a bear it had to be. Now, WHICH bear???
Decisions, decisions! So many bears, each with different coloration, different textures, different little faces! None with moustaches (I asked about facial hair add-ons), but that could easily be remedied at home. So, which bear would it be? I finally decided that the "reading bear" was the one for me! Not only did his coloration echo that of my singing bird, and his fur was soft and lush to the touch, but he was also a very GOOD bear. How did I know? Because part of the cost for bringing him to life would go to a literacy program. Oh, yes, he was definitely the bear for me!
Then came the fun part: making him MINE. I was able to personalize him in so many ways! First, I chose a sound for him... that's right, I wanted him to be able to speak to me. Which sound? A bear's growl? No, no, no! A frog's croak! Oh, yes, yes, yes! And just that fast his name popped into my head: Toad Hopkins! After all, my bird's surname was HOPkins, so TOAD was entirely appropriate as the moniker of his snuggle surrogate. Well, alrighty then!
Then it was time to choose his heart (red satin or red plaid) and perform the little ceremony to make it truly his. First, it had to be kissed. Next it had to be placed at his ear so he would listen to me. Finally, it was placed into his chest, along with a tracking tag. Yep, that's right, a tracking tag! That way, should he ever get lost out there in the big world, he could be taken to a Build-A-Bear Workshop and they could read his tag... and help him get safely home again. Wow!
The final act was to fill him with cuddly bits and close him up. Toni let ME work the pedal that controlled how many cuddly bits went in, so he would be just the right amount of snuggly for me. Nice! We paused the process twice, so I could check on his status, then he was perfect! Not hard and difficult to hold, not squishy with no support, but JUST RIGHT.
He even has a Birth Certificate.
So he even has a birthday. Nice!
And the good folks who were there for his birth sent a coupon for him to come and get a birthday gift of his own choosing. REALLY nice. So, this morning, he came to work with me, then we went to the old mall so he could get his present. Mind, he already had an idea of what he wanted: a ball cap. That's right, you heard me. My bird almost always has a ball cap on and Toad wanted one, too.
So, we looked around the whole store and didn't find any. Oh, we found various headgear, but they were all part of outfits. You know, a baseball jersey and pants and ball cap, a football jersey and pants and helmet, that sort of thing. Not at all what Toad wanted. Sure, the motorcycle jacket was cute, but not for him, not at this time of year for sure. So, when the nice lady asked if she could help, I told her that it was Toad's birthday and he was looking for a present... a muscle shirt. Yep, that's what I said to her! And, by golly, they actually HAD some! So I helped him put one on, and he liked it, but it was missing something... and then we saw the ball caps, in the next bin, under all these cute outfits. Navy blue and red were the choices, and the blue won out. What a sweet birthday suit! Really perked me up, too! Happy birthday, Toad!

chocolate words of wisdom

Lately, I've been enjoying a piece or two of dark chocolate before bed. (Note that I said "before bed" as opposed to "in bed", for those who know my singing bird.)
Anywho, a dear friend here in town introduced me to the joy of Dove Dark Chocolate Promises. At only 41 little calories per glorious piece, they're a nice little treat before bedtime, just a little something to signal the day's end.
One of the perks of this treat is this: there's a little saying on the inside of the wrapper. It's almost like getting a fortune cookie! When I first started eating these fine chocolates about three years ago, the sayings were all supplied by Dove. Not so anymore! At some time between the last bag of chocolates (sadly, a few months have elapsed in my chocolate ingestion!) and the ones purchased just a couple of weeks ago, a big change had occurred. Dove now has sayings from women all over the USA. Well, perhaps I generalize, perhaps not. This far, I have only seen women's names and have only seen cities and states in this part of North America. What a surprise! The bag has nothing to indicate the change in origin of the sayings, not a word. So, either this change occurred long enough ago that it is no longer noteworthy or I have missed something in the fine print.
With no further ado, here are a few of my favorites:
"Dance like no one is watching." Sally, Locke, NY I am a firm believer in the power of dance to free one's soul. As I have said many times, dancing is the most fun you can have with your clothes on!
"Here's to something more powerful than chocolate. Hope." Leah, New York, NY Another one that I live by. If ever I lose hope, that thing with feathers that perches in my soul, then I have truly lost myself.
"Keep moving forward; don't look back." Sally, Griffith, IN You can't do anything about what happened in the past. At worst, you learn from it and move on. At best, you enjoy the memory of a golden time!
"Blessings only come to those who notice." Jean, Houston, TX Tiny little miracles occur every day - EVERY DAY - just waiting for you to look outside yourself and see them. My latest passion is taking pictures of clouds, for every formation is different and unique and never to be repeated.
"When you can't control the wind, adjust your sails." Brenda, Schofield, WI What better way to end a day at the beach?

more "m" words

Hormones... You're living your life, doing just fine, and ZAP! Hormones start flooding your body, including your brain, causing you to have emotional, mental, and physical turmoil. This introduction to hormones most often occurs when one hits the teen years and has the ugly word "puberty" attached to it. Basically, your body becomes sexually mature over a span of several years and you have to try to catch up to it mentally and emotionally. Is it any wonder that teens seem off-kilter?
In addition to the internal bath of hormones, girls begin having their menses, also known as menstruation or period. This begins due to the increased production of estrogen by the ovaries. Boys suddenly find themselves getting aroused at inopportune times or by inappropriate subjects and having "wet dreams". This is caused by the increased production of testosterone by the testicles.
The end result of all these changes in hormone levels is this: adult people regard teens to be moody, temperamental, and difficult. What would you expect if you were suddenly overwhelmed by an influx of chemicals that caused your body to change in uncontrollable ways? It takes time to become accustomed to this new modus operandi of the body you once knew, it takes time for the hormonal fluctuations to become natural for you, it takes time to mentally adjust to the chemically-driven physical alterations.
Some folks never seem to settle in to their changed body. They let the physical changes dictate how they behave. But most folks adapt and learn to accept and enjoy this new phase of their lives. This is good, as this phase usually lasts several decades. That's right, I said "decades". All people, male and female, have cyclic highs and lows of the various hormones coursing through their bodies.
So, you're living your life, doing just fine, and ZAP! Your hormone levels start changing again. Dagnabbit! What terrible timing, as this generally occurs just as you have teens in the house, too. So, now you have teens in puberty and adults in peri-menopause. Ovaries slow down and eventually stop their production of estrogen and progesterone, now depriving the body of the chemicals it had grown accustomed to. This process of peri-menopause goes on for several years, just as puberty did, and can make a sane woman think she's losing her mind. She finds herself subjected to mood swings, emotional instability, irrational thoughts and behavior... just like the teenagers in her life. Dagnabbit!!!
Fortunately, this phase is also brief, lasting just few long years. It's very important to be ever-mindful of your actions during this trying time and to be more patient with yourself and with others. Once the body adjusts to THIS new paradigm, the cessation of these internally manufactured chemicals called estrogen and progesterone, then you are finally in menopause. Ahhhh! No more "visits by Aunt Flo", no more buying tampons or pads. I advise that you throw away all blood-stained sheets and underwear and treat yourself to new linens and panties. That's certainly what I intend to do!
As for men, they don't undergo the same drastic turning off of the hormonal spigot. Rather, their testicles start a slow process of decreasing testosterone production, beginning in the thirties and continuing throughout the rest of their life. The process varies for individuals, but generally is so gradual that the body and mind have time to adjust together to the decrease of the testicular chemicals. The "mid-life crisis" is the term most often associated with this time for men.
So, I'm done with this lecture now. I guess it's on my mind because I so often hear peri-menopause referred to as menopause and it irks me. Get it straight, folks: "menopause" is the "permanent cessation of menstruation" and officially begins when twelve continuous months of no menses has occurred. I am so ready for that!

company!

My house is full of people! FULL OF PEOPLE!!! It's so nice... it really is. My BFF's kids stayed here last night, as did my bird from Charleston, and we all watched one of my favorite movies last night. The girl had never seen it and I wanted them to all see Paul Reubens' hammy death number, so we watched "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" on my tiny tv... and really enjoyed it, and each other's company. Yes, indeed, life is GOOD.
Last night, while my BFF and her husband had some snuggling time sans progeny, said progeny were with me at "12 Angry Men", presented at Indigo Arts Center. Great show about justice and bias and rational thought. The neatest part for me? Noticing how well the three teens were following the unfolding logic. I had been concerned that the show might be a little too dry for them, but I also knew several of the actors and believed in their ability to make the story fresh, even though the action took place in one small room in the 1950's. And keep it fresh they did! We even had some discussion about the play as we were driving home.
Today, we all went to wash laundry at my favorite laundrette. The kids had spent the week on the road and wanted to all have some clean things to wear. Off we went after breakfast, walking over to the variety store during the wash cycle. My bird stayed at home, in case the parents of my charges should happen to arrive before our return... at least, that was his story! Actually, I think he just wanted a little quiet time!
We've been to the beach for the Tybee Seafood Festival, where we had some food, walked on the pier, and decided the breeze was just a bit too brisk! Plus, the food had just whet our appetites, so we headed back toward Savannah, stopping to lunch on the veranda at Flying Fish Bar & Grill. Soon we'll go to the Lucas Theatre to see "The Godfather" on the big screen. It's one of the offerings of the SCAD Cinema Circle of films. Fun!

amazing

I just returned from a trip to Orlando to see my BFF's daughter dance in Downtown Disney. Truly, that was the reason I lit out of here on Tuesday morning: to watch the girl dance. Well, and to see my BFF, of course. She lives up past Atlanta, in a tiny town that Travis Tritt also calls home, and it's about 4 1/2 hours from here. Not terribly far, but not all that close, either.
Orlando is about that same distance. On Sunday, she left me a message on facebook saying "wish you would come". Well, work has been extremely quiet, so I asked for the two days off in the middle of the week and was immediately granted them. Nice! Scary, too, but nice. So I found a room for Tuesday night and off I went!
And I am so glad I did. She and I had a good chance to TALK, something she and I don't often have time for, especially as she is, essentially, a single working mother of two teens. Yeah, she's married, but he's hardly been home for several years now, as he has been working overseas. He has no idea how stressful her life is, and she tries hard to keep from letting him know because she doesn't want him to worry. I think she's letting him off the hook for his parental responsibilities.
I think when he IS home that he needs to let HER take off while he's stateside. He can be the one responsible for the care and feeding of two teenagers. And no, she is not allowed to stock the fridge, freezer, and pantry before she leaves. She is not allowed to clip the coupons which make everything more affordable. She is not allowed to pay any bills early that will be due during his tenure. She is not allowed to reschedule any of the kids' events that fall during his tenure. She is not allowed to make helpful lists for him; that's the sort of thing you do for a babysitter, not a parent, especially not a parent who is a partner in the marriage.
Yes, I think he would have a new appreciation for her and for all she does to make his life easier, not only when he is home for a visit, but also while he is away. The woman is amazing.
And get this: she doesn't see it. She's been looking at how much more she thinks she SHOULD be doing, not at how much she HAS done. (This bad habit was taught to her by her mom.) She is so busy doing things for other people in her household all the time that she isn't taking care of herself. She told me she hasn't had a physical for years. YEARS. No Pap smear, no mammogram, no blood work to check her cholesterol or liver function or thyroid function or ANYTHING. And her husband has no idea that she has forgone these necessary tasks for her own well-being so the FAMILY can have what it needs. After all, taking care of herself takes time and resources from others, and she's the mom. If she doesn't take care of everything, who will? That's what she says to me. Who will?
I say, give more responsibility to the others. She has two incredible kids, but she is concerned that people will think SHE is a failure because her son wears his pants in that ridiculous fashion (yeah, bet THAT won't come back in style in 20 years!) of his peers. Say what? First and foremost, WHO CARES WHAT STRANGERS THINK? Seriously. Oh, and his hair is dyed a weird color. SO? And he isn't doing well in a couple of classes. AND? Let me tell you this: He's polite to his elders, he's well-spoken, he's very supportive of his friends and even his sister. All are very good LEARNED qualities and are traits that others have commented on approvingly. He has several classes he positively excels in; that is certainly commendable. He does what is asked of him, though he doesn't yet do such tasks of his own volition; but he's 16, not an adult. He doesn't do drugs or sell them, a truly remarkable accomplishment these days, especially for a child of a single working parent. He isn't in jail, doesn't think it would be cool to be in jail, and doesn't hang out with jailbirds as friends. I wish I could say the same for some of the kids in MY family.
And the girl? She is very smart and beautiful, just like her mother. She is a very talented dancer and kind person, adored by her peers, her teachers, and her fellow members of the dance troupe or any other group she has ever belonged to. She is very helpful and does whatever household tasks are asked of her. True, she needs to be asked to do them, but she's only 13, not an adult. She, also, doesn't hang out with jailbirds or drug addicts, even though I'm sure this little town has its fair share of such bad influences.
I think, when you're dealing with kids who LOOK grown that it's too easy to fall into the trap of expecting them to ACT like adults. Having no children of my own, I try to keep my mouth shut about how I see folks raising their kids. After all, what do I know about it? But I can say this: I saw both of them soften and transform into true KIDS one evening last summer. We had all gone to the beach and time had gotten away from us and we were quite hungry. We went to a local place, The Crab Shack, so we could finish with treats from the ocean. (My BFF does have this one major fault: she doesn't do seafood. Fortunately, she has copious good qualities to more than offset this one shortcoming.) The kids spent some time exploring the place and, magically, became... kids. They were actually able to let down their guard and just be themselves for a while. THAT was the best part of the evening!
Enough. It's late and I need rest. But let me just close with this: Dad, make sure Mom takes care of herself and gets those doctor appointments done NOW. Also, don't expect adult actions or thought processes from the kids; they are not yet adults. Instead, realize that they are good people with good hearts and enjoy them for the people they are NOW. I sure do.

traveling stars

This image was captured on the evening of the death of my mother-in-law, Mother Pat. I like that the stars are twinkling as they traverse this space and like to think that her bright spirit had hitched a ride on one of them.
Perpetual Christmas lights... nice.

film festival, s'il vous plait

For the second year, AASU held the Francophone Film Festival. Incredible! You would think the Fine Arts Auditorium would have been filled all three evenings, particularly as the event was completely free. Yes, that's right - FREE. The five wonderful films were shown to a small, but enthusiastic, audience. I saw four of the five, missing out only on the opening film last Thursday. Honestly, I believe I would have been there had I only picked up a copy of the local entertainment paper.
One of the four I saw had been shown at the Savannah Film Festival, either last year or the previous. "Entre Les Murs", which translates to "Between the Walls", was re-titled "The Class" and was about an 8th-grade teacher and the effect of one unruly student on the mindset of his other students. Even though I had seen it before, I watched again and truly enjoyed it. This film was the second show on Friday night; the first was "Un Secret". Its lead character was shown in flashbacks, at two ages during his childhood, and was a sweet, but sad film about life as a Jew in occupied Paris.
The really nice surprise Friday night was the food. That's right, between the two films, the attendees were treated to fine French fare! A new local French restaurant provided several different types of fancy sandwiches as well as a fabulous salad. Yum! I had planned to just run down the street and get a bite between the films; this was much, much better! All for free, too. The French Club even served as hosts for this feast and provided it again after the second film. I wished I had been there on Thursday for the opening! The restaurant had provided several different savory quiches and even desserts! I did not catch the name of the restaurant that night, but thought I would be sure to note it on Saturday.
Alas, that was not to be. The fine French food was no longer the fare between the films on that warm evening! My bird was in town and I thought I had found us not only free entertainment, but free dinner as well. I did well on the former, but not the latter. Dagnabbit!
Still, we had a good time at the films, both of which were quite different from the ones the previous evening. These were both romances, for starters. The first was an animated film about two brothers from different mothers, both searching for the same woman to wed. "Azur et Asmar" was delightful and quite a fairy tale, good for both boys and girls. Of course, any children viewing the movie would have to be literate, as this film, like all the others, was in French with English subtitles.
When we exited the auditorium, we were hoping for food. We had driven straight from the beach to the film festival and had not eaten since lunch. I had just been SO sure the intermission would be catered again! Oh, well, off we went for roast beef sandwiches, returning for the last film of the festival. "Les Amours d' Astree et de Celadon" was a very sweet tale of a shepherdess and shepherd, whose love was forbidden because his folks didn't like hers. Yep, classic star-crossed lovers fare, but with a twist and much humor. Quite a high note to end the festival!

cleaning up

For the last few years, I had said that when I turned 50, I was going to learn how to play the drums. After I filed for divorce, when I was still six or seven months away from my 50th birthday, I needed SOMETHING as a distraction. A very good friend, who happens to teach music in a local middle school, decided to help me by scouring the ads for an affordable set.
Well, before a couple of weeks had passed, he'd found me some: the Black Hawk kit shown here, complete with three cymbals (with neat names like "Crash" and "Ride" and "Hi-Hat"). No snare drum, but he found one of those for me the next week. The drums and cymbals had been sitting in a garage for some few years (since the guy was in high school; his dad told him they had to go NOW). I spent some time taking them apart and cleaning them up, removing and trashing the mildewy pillows inside the bass (to muffle the sound for the neighbors), removing tarnish from the cymbals and shining them back up, using a bit of Superglue to re-attach some of the hardware. it was a bonding experience for me and the drums. Every once in a while, I'd even put on some Robbie Robertson and try to drum along!
After I got them in a serviceable condition, I bought a "learn the drums" dvd and set about finding my beat. Well, that was sure easier said than done! I was expecting something that would teach me when to hit which drum, when to add a little crash or ride, what part of the drumstick. No. The tutorial assumed I would just pick up on that, I guess.
I even attended a workshop/concert at a local music store, at my friend's invitation. The event featured Will Calhoun, the drummer of the the former, and now again touring, band Living Colour. He gave an incredible performance, amazing to hear AND to watch. WOW! I even bought his CD, Native Lands, which I'm listening to as I write. The sounds that man could make! Not just with drums and cymbals, but with other objects he had incorporated into his repertoire and converted into musical instruments. What an inspiration!
I was definitely inspired and set myself a schedule for practicing on my drums. Unfortunately, my inspiration didn't persist. I was still very unsure of just WHAT I was supposed to be doing. How to know which drum to hit??? How often? How to coordinate with the foot pedals on the bass and the Hi-Hat?
How to coordinate, indeed. I'm a bit of a klutz, as most anyone will confirm. Trying to get my feet and my hands to work at different speeds, on different items, in some synchronized manner... well, it just wasn't happening. I didn't have the patience to try to teach myself nor the funds to take lessons. And so the Black Hawk kit found itself being used as furniture: an end table here, a luggage rack there, a nightstand. The cymbals met a worse fate, sitting closed up in a closet to keep them out of the way.
No more. I had found them on Craig's List, and back to there I went to seek a new home for them. The first two contacts were a bust, but the third, as they say, was the charm. A young man was wanting to take up the drums. He was already accomplished on the guitar and was wanting to start a band with a friend... who also played guitar. I sold him only the Black hawk set, just as I had bought it, albeit quite a bit cleaner. I even gave him the package of drumsticks, a few drumming books, and the instructional CD I had purchased for no extra charge. I imagine I could have asked for the same sum for which I had purchased them, but, as I told him, I knew I had gotten at least $50 worth of entertainment from them and was glad to have the drums go to someone who would use them.
(I'm not really sure why I held on to the snare drum. It came in a travel bag, so it stores quite nicely on a shelf, out of sight for now. Maybe I'll learn how to be a gypsy jazz drummer. That would certainly be more my speed: only one instrument to operate, with no need to coordinate my hands and feet!)
Since then, I've been selling off a few other items that have been collecting dust around here. I started with some books that Daddy had read, then some movies that I had watched and decided that I did not need to own. Then, I was going through my music collection and realized, with a start, that I hadn't listened to some of those artists for YEARS. On to the eBay marketplace they were posted... and many have since literally been posted off to new homes! To date, I have sold more than 47 items! That's right, at least FORTY-SEVEN "things" have left my abode! Actually, the total is even better than that, but I've had 47 "positive feedback" reports filed on me, so I know that many of the items were well-received by their new owners. Fly Lady would be so proud of me! And I'm pretty pleased with myself, too.

the "m" word

This past weekend was spent in Charleston, mostly, with my singing bird.
I drove up on Friday after work and then waited until he got off from his job and came home. I had known he would be at work and had no problem waiting, knowing I had about 45 minutes to myself and entertaining myself by catching up on some overdue phone calls. My bird was a little chagrined that I had to wait for so long in the car and, before I knew what was happening, he had given me a key to his apartment. Big step, for me certainly, and, I believe, for him, too.
Before you say anything, just let me state that some time earlier, I had attempted to give him a key to my place. When he came here to visit me, he would arrive a bit before I got off work and then he would wait in his car until I got home. I had told him I could leave a key outside, but he didn't think that was a good idea - color me relieved! Still, when he was visiting for a few days, with one of those days being a work day, I hadn't wanted him to feel trapped in the house, so I had placed my spare key by the door for him to use. He had chosen not to do so and the key remained where I had placed it throughout his visit.
Anyway, back to this past weekend. When he arrived home, we went to dinner, then watched the 2007 Oscar Shorts (two animated, two live-action, all excellent!) before going to bed. The next morning, we were up and off to Columbia and the Riverbanks Zoo & Garden. My favorite blues band, Elliott & The Untouchables, were performing for their Springtime In The Garden Festival. Beautiful!!! Cool blues in a green place on a warm spring day... heaven! I danced and danced while my bird lounged on the new grass of the hill fronting the amphitheatre. It was truly a little slice of perfection!
Later, we went to the Penn Center to hear Gullah folk songs. A friend of my bird's was performing and he had invited me to come along, as neither of us had heard that music before. I think we would both agree that Gullah folk is still folk. Nice, but not my cup of tea, so to speak. After enjoying our own Music Festival, we had a late dinner and headed back to Charleston and bed.
The next morning, we watched the news: CBS Sunday Morning, the only news program I deliberately seek out. The weather promised thunderstorms and severe rain, so I opted to return to Savannah rather than attend the Cajun Festival there in Charleston. That's when he bounced upstairs and returned ... with a key. He told me he didn't want me to ever have to wait out in the car for him to get home. Nice!
Then we're cuddling on the couch, watching a little Jim Carrey movie, commenting about the action. You know: not really doing anything, just passing a little time. And out of the blue he says, "My lease will be up in five and a half months." Whoa! What?! I'm sure I must have stiffened up as I turned my head to look at him. He then says he's been looking at other apartments and was thinking about a job transfer to my town and I told him the truth: I had also been thinking about that option, but I didn't think I was ready to move in with him yet. I told him straight up that ten years had lapsed between the end of my first marriage and the time I was ready to try it again.
I am definitely not yet ready to try that "m" word again, and I don't know how I feel about this other "m" word. Moving in together. All of the responsibilities, none of the protections. Still, we are both thinking along the same lines and that's pretty amazing. We talk about a lot of things, but we don't talk about our feelings for each other. I think we're both a bit leery of that word "love" and we're letting our actions speak for us. That's a good thing, but we ARE going to have to discuss that word "love" and define what it means to each of us, what we want it to mean.
Meanwhile, I enjoy his company and he enjoys mine. That's special.

repo

Tonight, I thought I would have myself a double-header, so out the door I went. No, not to Grayson Stadium; my boys of summer don't start playing until April 8th. (And yes, I have been watching the calendar.) No, this is the two-movies-in-one-night type of double-header. I had done my research and found the two movies I wanted at the Regal Cinema, the two movies which would work well together to minimize sitting-around-waiting-for-the-next time.
I arrive and pull out my Entertainment card, my Regal Crown Club card, and what I thought was my discount coupon. Yeah, that last item, there... turns out it was the discount for a museum in Charleston. Doh! So, I moved out of line so the folks behind me didn't have to wait while I ransacked my wallet and my purse, with said ransacking of no avail. Dagnabbit! The young woman behind the counter went ahead and gave me the "senior" discount, though, which was very kind of her and no doubt was inspired by my having an obvious "senior moment." Sigh.
So, instead of a double-header, I opted for just one movie, the movie which would have been the first in my line-up: "Repo Men." I had known it was science fiction and featured Jude law and Forrest Whitaker as guys with the odious task of repossessing transplanted metallic organs from customers who fell behind on their payments. Interesting concept, yes? Most definitely, especially as I have known several would-be transplant patients of late.
Well, lemme tell you, the movie was MUCH more intense than I had expected. Yeah, I've watched enough "CSI" and such that the close-up shots of the live operation sites was bearable, so that wasn't the problem. In fact, I was good with the movie until the last twenty minutes or so... and then I was devastated. Truly.
There are levels of evil, just as there are levels of good. Sometimes, the levels overlap when the degrees of good and evil are subjective and dependent on extenuating circumstances, as the expression goes. You know: the guy steals a loaf of bread for his starving children, that sort of thing. Other times, the distance between the levels is vast and serves to accentuate the depravity of that level of evil.
This movie had various levels of good and evil, much as one would expect in such a film, or in many other science fiction films. But then the film added that unexpected level of pure evil masquerading as friendship, but utterly manipulative and twisted. And then, just to make sure, took it one more level down. Not since "Unbreakable" have I seen such devastating evil.
I don't think I'll ever see this film again, either. Its images, like those of the Bruce Willis & Samuel L. Jackson film, are burned on my brain, unfortunately.