annie oddflower

Loyal

2012-01-28T19:00:00.001-06:00

The vase came in last week and they mounted it on the vault. You can barely see it but it is a cross shaped vase on all four sides. It wasn't until I got away that I realized I did not get a good picture of the vase. I was enamored with the fact that I could sit on my grandmother's tombstone and rest my feet on my son's vault. I don't think she would mind. :) Three times up there and I'm just now figuring out how to make myself comfortable! Red geraniums please me to no end, even if they are just silk.

Don't know if you can see it but my grandmother's name was Loyal. Seems like a fitting place for me to be a sitting. My husband took this photo for me. He took it about five times before he got it like I wanted it. We were unusually patient with each other. He doesn't usually participate in my artsy-fartsy escapades.

I have realized with great sadness that I don't have a recent picture of just me and my son together. Neither one of us liked having our picture taken and both of us were very crafty at avoiding having our picture taken. Now, thanks to our silly stubbornness, I suppose this one will have to do.

Right Regrets?

2012-01-21T16:59:00.000-06:00

I forget I can blog from my phone! Such fun! I was going to put this up on Friday but I was too busy at work to be playing around with such stuff!

This was the first calendar page I saw on my first day back to work. December 13th was the day of the funeral. Today I spent some time writing thank you notes for when I was in the hospital and for the funeral stuff. My husband and I did split up the funeral notes but he has been done all of his (I don't think that grammar is quite correct).

I thought I liked this little saying but now I am not so sure.

What are "right regrets"?

(Time for me to get back to writing thank you notes.)

I miss him so much...

Poetry Talk

2012-01-11T23:09:00.000-06:00

Some of you may not be aware of it, but back in the day, when I first started getting on the internet, I found a little poetry writing group and we had lots of fun writing and critiquing our poems. A few of my poems were published in a few online poetry zines (none were really big or impressive). When the group sort of fell apart, I learned about blogs and started this blog.

Today I decided to check on the Leisure Learning classes at our university and there is a course called "Journaling the Poetic Experience: A Beginner's Entry into Poetry Writing." I think I might sign up for the course (and hope enough people sign up for the class to "make"). It's scary to me because, like with my blog, not very many people in my day to day life, no about this side of me. And this class is being held where I work, being taught by a teacher from the English department. Yikes!

Anyway, I was at work with no access to my files on my laptop so I decided to google to see if I could find any of my poems still online (I could). There may have been five or six, but I was surprised at how several of them dealt with the subject of grief and mourning. This evening I checked my files and found this one. I barely remember writing it but I kind of like it now. And look! Tomorrow this poem will be ten years old.

Eternity’s Call
01/12/02

The old man always carried
his light from the lamp
through the halls of his life, sunshine
seeping through fingers like crumbs
in forest dank, golden markings
shared to guide poor souls
following who might hesitate
in the dark corners of living,
confused, and unsure.

When he reached his own dark room
at the end of the way,
through the window he saw stars,
twinkling like diamonds sprinkled
on blue jeweler’s velvet,
reminding him of the streetlights
coming on in his youth,
his nightly call to come home.

Miniscule specks of firefly light
beckon and tease.
Dimly, he can hear
eternity calling him home.

Strong Women Do Cry

2012-01-07T11:56:00.001-06:00

I went Friday morning to do blood work for my primary care doctor's appointment. I did not have a copy of my orders so I had to sit and wait a few minutes for the receptionist to find the paperwork. I was a bit stressed at having to wait because I was afraid I was going to be late for work.

While I was sitting and waiting and watching all the other people go in ahead of me, tears started slipping out my eyes and down my face. It was like the whole last two months was washing over my brain and leaking out my eyes. I sniffled a few minutes and tried to keep anyone else from noticing. Finally, I got my "number" and was called in to have my blood drawn. I was still discreetly sniffling.

I sat down at the chair and saw that it would be more convenient for the blood lady to take blood from my right arm. But my left arm is the better arm for getting blood. And I had so recently had all that struggle at the hospital with them trying to draw blood and get medicine into me through my veins. I was fighting not to lose it. So I spoke up for myself and told her it would probably be better to use my left arm. Then I told her in the briefest and calmest way possible that I had been in the hospital in November, had surgery and came home and my son died and somehow this experience today just brought it all back and she didn't say much but she got me a couple of tissues and proceeded very gently to work on taking blood from my left arm while I mutter something to myself about how "they" said it would hit you at odd times and I just couldn't help it that "it" had hit me at this time.

Sometimes you don't want to tell your whole life story but you do want to get across that the reason you are upset and crying is not just that you are a big fat wuss about having your blood drawn.

I've been so strong through all of this. And I've told anyone who marvels at my strength that it is God's grace that is holding me up.

My inner Pollyanna is often conflicted. She knows there will be brighter days but she can't deny the presence of all the misery that surrounds her these days. I'm working to convince her that it is not a negation of God's grace if we just sit down a little while and allow ourselves to shed a few tears without worrying about having to be strong and discreet in our mourning.

Lamentations

2012-01-02T10:28:00.001-06:00

I go back to work tomorrow. I have thank you cards yet to write and I can't get myself motivated to do them. There has been so much kindness and thoughtfulness and I am very grateful, but I still feel a bit lost in the wilderness and can't get myself to sit down and write those notes. I'm embarrassed that I have not done them yet.

There are things I need to get done and worked out at work before I can schedule my second surgery.

I'd really like to crawl in a hole somewhere and hide for another month or two.

This is not the shape in which I thought I'd be entering into 2012. No, it's not.

I know things will get better, or easier, or both, but right now things are tough.

It snowed the night before he died. This is the last text I received from him, with the simple caption of "snowman", as if I couldn't figure it out! Earlier, he'd told me he liked it up there and he was learning a lot.

It takes a lot for me to leave that cigarette in the snowman's mouth. It is a painful, embarrassing (and now public) reminder of lifestyle choices he made that I would never have approved of, choices that were way off the track of the things I had dreamed for him. But, on the other hand, he was so much more than just the painful, embarrassing and public crummy choices he made.

He had friends who loved him so much and who will miss him, friends who spoke of his good and kind heart, friends who could not save him, just like his mother couldn't save him. And he leaves the biggest, fattest hole in all our hearts.

I am grateful for my faith, that tells me he is at peace, that tells me there is hope for those of us who are continuing our journeys without him, grateful for healing that will come, though there will be scars.

Yesterday in church, we heard of another family who lost their son under similar circumstances. Such sadness. And another family was there with a son-in-law who has been in rehab and was out on a visitation pass. Such hope. I thought of all us mothers and family members who have such hopes and dreams for their sons and loved ones. Life can be such a bittersweet experience.

Grief and Grace

2011-12-12T08:53:00.000-06:00

Today and tomorrow, it becomes undeniably real.

I'll be back, hopefully with stories of mercy and grace.

In the Hospital With My Wrong Mind

2011-12-03T14:46:00.000-06:00

"It makes me appreciate how wonderful a fully functioning brain is—and what we take for granted." --anonymous professor, ABA expert

So I had a few extra-curricular adventures after surgery.

I remember very clearly after surgery, I think they were trying to get me to urinate, and I was telling the nurses that it was of no use because I "I know too much." I was trying to tell them they could not use ABA on me because I knew too much about it. I also insisted that they call Dr. Melville and he could tell them all about what I was trying to say (apparently I was aware that I was not sounding too clear-headed).

ABA, or Applied Behavior Analysis is a psychology practice that is often used to treat autistic children. And to train dogs. It is a very complicated field of study and I surely don't know too much about it! But that is what got stuck in my head and it continued to give me problems for most of the time I was in the hospital.

My supervisor had stopped by to visit the afternoon of the surgery and I carried on a perfectly sane conversation with her. A couple of hours later when two friends who've known me for a long time stopped by, I was back to insisting I knew too much about ABA and they just couldn't use it on me. My friends, knowing and loving me so well, played along and messed with me just a little bit.

People, somehow (fever and morphine, they think, is how I got the idea) I got the idea that I had "liked" something on a professor's Facebook page and all the ABA people were "liking" it after me and that every time they did that my pain increased. My oldest daughter stayed with me one afternoon (Wednesday?) and pretended to me that she was fixing everything for me. But I was still hurting so I felt like she was not doing a good job of fixing it. At one point she tried to tell me the logical truth by showing me the Facebook page but of course I would have no part of the logical truth! I was convinced I knew the truth! She, in the meantime, was worried that I might not ever get back to normal (or at least, to my previous state of normal)!

Wednesday night, they gave me medicine for nausea. At one point, my husband said he woke up and there were about six people standing over my trying to rouse me but my eyes kept rolling back in my head. Sometime after that, I remember being awake and the room was dark but the television was on. I became convinced that I had unliked all the ABA stuff to try and relieve my pain but that now the ABA people were mad because of that and they didn't know it was me who did it, but they were trying to figure it out and they were threatening to make my life miserable (when they figured out who I was).

At this time I was on the oxygen tube thing to make me breathe right and they had those leg pump things on my legs that would blow up like a balloon and then release on a regular basis. I felt like the oxygen thing was making me work too hard to breathe and something about the balloon things on my legs was making my toes hurt and I mean HURT! But I thought that was all a conspiracy of the ABA people on the TV. I kept calling for the nurse and raising all kind of heck which is so totally unlike me. I think I scared my husband that night! It was by far our worst night there.

And to make matters worse, I finally decided maybe I'd feel better if I listened to "positive encouraging KLove" on my phone. I begged my husband to get my phone and start the music but he is not too technologically advance so it was a big ordeal for me to tell him how to get it going while I was in my wrong mind! We finally got it going and he handed me my phone but I didn't believe it was really my phone so we had a little "discussion" about that and I finally shut up about it even though I did not believe it was really my phone.

Well, people, the first song to play was called "Something Beautiful" a song I have loved since I first heard it. But it has lyrics like "I know where I need to be but I can't figure out" and "I can't figure out how much air I will need to breathe" and "will ya let me drown" but the absolute worst thing for me that night was "consume me like a fire." I was nuts! And I thought the radio was playing these songs because no one liked them and I had to "like" them to make them stop playing and to make my pain go away!

It was at this point that I called on God, Jesus and the Holy Ghost to please help me (not that I hadn't prayed before, but I was desperate now and I knew I could do nothing to help myself). I finally settled down and the morning came and after that, things seemed to get much better. That would have been Thursday morning. I did not go home until Monday.

The funny thing was, up until sometime Saturday, I still believed in my head that when I got myself out of that hospital bed and home to my laptop, I was going to PROVE to all these people that Facebook and the ABA people really were making me have more pain. I had shut up about it because it was clear everyone thought I was delusional but I just knew I could prove it!

Things kind of started unraveling when one of the professors called to check on me and laughed when she said she guessed they'd better not send the ABA expert to the hospital to visit me. It wasn't until another day or so when it dawned on me that he was not the professor whose Facebook page had caused me trouble. I would not have been scared for him to come visit. I realized he didn't even have a Facebook page! Then I realized the guy whose page I thought was causing me all the pain was not an ABA guy! And then I knew he did not have a Facebook page either! And slowly, slowly, my right brain began to return to me and boy was I ever happy to see it!

Lyrics to "Something Beautiful"

In your ocean, I'm ankle deep
I feel the waves crashin' on my feet
It's like I know where I need to be
But I can't figure out, yeah I can't figure out

Just how much air I will need to breathe
When your tide rushes over me
There's only one way to figure out
Will ya let me drown, will ya let me drown

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful
To touch me, I know that I'm in reach
'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful
Oh,Oh,Oh something beautiful

And the water is risin' quick
And for years I was scared of it
We can't be sure when it will subside
So I won't leave your side, no I can't leave your side

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful
To touch me, I know that I'm in reach
'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful
Oh,Oh,Oh Something Beautiful
Oh,Oh,Oh Something Beautiful

In a daydream, I couldn't live like this
I wouldn't stop until I found something beautiful
When I wake up, and all i want i have
You know it's still not what i need something beautiful

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful
To touch me, I know that I'm in reach
'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful
Oh,Oh,Oh something beautiful
Oh,Oh,Oh

Adaptation and Reflection

2011-10-29T23:29:00.000-05:00

I really enjoyed getting out in the fresh air today and taking pictures.

I'm calling this one adaptation. I was going to call it something like "ensnared" or "codependent" but I decided I wanted to keep a positive focus!

It just turned out that I was in the right place at the right time for this photo. We were just about to leave when I spotted the reflection of the bridge in the water and wandered over to check it out.

It seems I was in the mood for reflective photos today! We had a little cool spell and my youngest daughter and I decided we wanted to get out and get some fresh air. We got a late start, we didn't get to the park till around 4, but it turned out to be a great time to be there taking photos because of the good light at that time of day.

I really think this is one of my favorite images from the day. There is something about the bulbous shape of the tree and its reflection, along with the red of the leaves.

Reflections, reflections! My sister says she sees Sasquatch over there in the background!

Another calming image of a calming place for me to be. I have not been here since I went with my nephew in December of 2009 to take pictures. I suppose it would do me good to remember this resource I have in my own backyard!

Maybe times like these, where you can walk in a peaceful place and see nature's beauty and be distracted from your own problems, maybe these are healing times and should be embraced as snugly as that vine is embracing the tree in that first picture! I knew there was something important in that picture for me!

Oh how loving is the embrace of grace!

Already, Part of My Biography

2011-10-28T19:01:00.000-05:00

I haven’t read the little book yet, but already it is part of my biography.

I honestly think part of the reason I am writing so much about all of this is that I want a record of the process. I think there may be times when my memory can’t be trusted but if I've left a few words here and there, maybe I will have a better understanding of what happened when I get to the other side. Of this particular trauma, I mean, not that other "other side"! Not yet, I suddenly hope!

I am in a place I have never been before. That alone is exciting, crazy as it sounds. I feel the need to act more Zennish and to focus only on what lies in my path right here, right now and to take one day at a time. When I told my spiritual director this, she asked how that felt. It feels like where I need to be, it feels like it's really true that "It's all grace." It feels like a pretty good place to be.

One huge thing that helps me to deal with this threat is the ability not to jump too far ahead, or when I have jumped there, the ability to bring myself back to what I am actually facing right now. And maybe also the ability to recognize the different ones in me and to understand where they are coming from when they are acting out, and then having the presence of mind to take care of whoever is the needy one at the moment.

There are also other parts of me who are having a field day with all this. The curious one and the writer one are in cahoots, observing how this is going to transpire and writing some of it down for future reference. What a fantastic opportunity! Who knows what I'll do with all this info but it pleases me to gather it.

In other news, I’ve gotten a majority of the things done that are on my list of “things to do before I go.” I wanted to call the list “things to do before I die” but I leave that paper lying loose on my desk and I didn’t want to upset anyone or make them worry about my sense of humor! So next week, I will finish up what remaining loose ends there are and I will go to the hospital to preregister.

In the meantime, I am trying to resist the urge to google about it. One of the things I read was this memorable quote and a veiled warning: "Sticking to a colon surgery diet can be difficult; however, not following the proper instructions can leave you feeling sick and in pain."

Bubbling and Boiling

2011-10-22T20:03:00.001-05:00

I watched my eggs boiling for egg salad (1) as I stirred cocoa, sugar, butter and milk to make one of my all-time favorite comfort foods, boiled cookies (2). Later, I stirred the makings of taco soup (3), waiting not so patiently for it to boil. As I watched the pot, I daydreamed about other things I have waited to boil in this big pot, things like gumbo (4) and mayhaw jelly (5), which, when it boils is one of the most beautiful colors I think I have ever seen.

Five foods- that was the prompt we were supposed to be writing about. And so I have done that, right here, right now. But the back-story bubbling beneath the surface is the wonder about the things that are brewing in me. I would most like to describe it as a quickening (which seems like an old-fashioned, spiritual word), with the potential for growth. How will I be changed by the diagnosis? What might come of the time I will be recuperating?

Already I feel a sense of gratitude and grace, and love. I am working on attentiveness.

These are the kind of things that serve as markers in one’s life. Right now I’m just watching the bubbling, waiting to see what all comes up to the surface.

Tattoo Removal

2011-10-18T20:06:00.000-05:00

We had a guest speaker/singer in church today. He spoke about asking God to give us the grace to handle a thousand things. There was no way he could have known that I’d recently started reading a book I’ve had for months called A Thousand Gifts, where the author set out to make a list of a thousand graces from God’s hand. She writes beautifully of how that process changed her life. There was no way the speaker could have known I’d decided to make my own list of 1000 graces and that the first thing on my list would be the biggest thing of a thousand things I have to handle in my own life right now.

He spoke of God’s refreshing, and told us to ask for it. He said that God is as concerned with our refreshing as he is with our victory. There is no way the speaker could have known how long I have lived so close to the edge in my life, how stressed and worn out I am, how desperately I need refreshing, and how I’d decided colon cancer was the way God was going to provide refreshing for me. I mean, you know, 4-6 weeks of recovery time is also 4-6 weeks of time to be refreshed and renewed. My main task will be to rest and let my body be healed. What better time for a soul to also heal and be refreshed?

One of the speaker’s gifts is the ability to pray for people and usually after the service he will pray for anyone who would like to be prayed over. I stood in line and waited my turn. When I got to him, he told me that I had tattoos that God wants to remove, labels that are no longer appropriate to who I am. He says God wants to put a new tattoo on my forehead, a new label.

There is no way that man could have known that I have been laughing at the irony of me getting a tattoo one day (they will tattoo the cancerous spot the day before the surgery so that the surgeon can find it) and having it removed the very next day, when they remove the tattoo AND the cancerous spot. I am very reassured by knowing God wants to remove my tattoos. I am grateful.

He also mentioned that I carry a lot of pain and that God wants to take that too. I’ve been thinking about this one a while myself, believing it is time for me to lay some things down and quit identifying myself by my pains. He said there should be none of this talk of me saying God should not have to take my pain. I think there is also a message for me in that statement. I know that in dealing with the colon cancer I will have to allow others to carry part of my burden. I am accustomed to being the strong one. I will have to learn to accept my weaknesses.

I often say that I have grown up hearing about God’s grace but I struggle to understand it. And I have been told God loves me but I struggle with that too. Today I figured something out. God is not chasing me down to tell me what all I have done wrong in my life. He is pursuing me because he loves me, because he wants me to be in his company. I truly believe God is using colon cancer in my life to refresh me and to love me. I am grateful. Colon cancer will be number one on my list of a thousand gifts.

But for God’s grace, there is no way that man could have known any of the things he said that were hitting my heart with the precision of a laser.

Problems on the Path

2011-10-14T22:56:00.000-05:00

So I was five years late in getting my colonoscopy. I don’t know why I had put it off but I did. And a week after I got it down, the nurse from the doctor’s office called wanting to know if I could come in the next day to speak with the doctor. I’m no dummy. I knew she wasn’t calling me in to brag on my fiber intake.

She had removed six polyps and part of a seventh one. The seventh one was, is, cancerous. It is in my lower colon. The plan is to go in there and remove the polyp and a small section of the colon on either side of the polyp and then to reconnect the hose, er, I mean colon.

We went to see the surgeon yesterday. He explained everything and then said he was going to be out of town for two weeks. He said he would be happy to do the surgery, and it would not hurt to wait but if I wanted to go ahead with someone else that would be fine too. It really fits my schedule better to wait. That will give me time to get all my loose ends tied up at work. So we are aiming at doing the surgery the first, or preferably, the second week of November.

I am learning some things already from all of this:

First of all, never underestimate the value of having that second pair of ears with you. I sort of expected to hear what I heard, but when the word cancer came out of the doctor's mouth, my brain sort of keeled over and fainted on me. I'm going to call that experience "brain drop." I heard my voice telling the doctor that I needed to be writing some of that stuff down and saw my hand reaching into my purse for a pencil. She stepped out and got me a card to write on and then offered to write it for me. But I needed to write it down, to have the words flow on paper into my brain like a road map marking an uncertain path. The doctor's small offering of a card and the nurse's hand resting ever so briefly on my shoulder as she left me in the room to wait for the doctor scared and informed me. It is amazing what people can tell you with no words.

Second of all, don't underestimate your enemy. The doctor talked like it was just a matter of snipping the offending part out and hooking the ends back together. I heard that and thought, wow, day surgery! She never said anything about if the offending part was too close to the ending part, you'd have to get a colostomy (and my offending part is in my lower colon). Also, when she said I needed a cat scan and blood work for the surgeon, she stopped short of saying "so we can see if there are any more cancer cells in your abdominal cavity."

Thirdly, be prepared for surprises, and know what they are supposed to be doing to you. If you are not sure, check with your doctor. Today I had blood work done and I was supposed to go to radiology to get my cat scan "kit". The nurse in the doctor's office had laughed and said she wasn't sure what that would be. I laughed too, and said "it's not like they will have me drinking barium." Well, guess what? First, they had rescheduled my cat scan ("probably due to "pre-cert" issues. That's usually what it means.") which upset me greatly. Surprise! Then she came out packing a jar of barium for me to drink before the test. Surprise again! Nobody in the doctor's office said anything about drinking barium. I don't like surprises. The good news is that I have until Sunday night to make friends with my "surprise". I called the office and they confirmed that I was supposed to be drinking barium.

Fourthly, one can't be a wuss when one is a cancer patient. One must learn to speak up for oneself. (Cyn, not a word!)

There is more but it's not quite all organized yet. I am sure I will learn more as I walk this path. I do want to write more about this but it is kind of hard because you know, even though the prognosis looks good, I really don't know how things will end up.

I go for the cat scan Monday morning. They do not expect any problems to show up there. Let's pray that their expectations are correct.

A Sense of Place

2011-10-11T02:00:00.001-05:00

This is another of the prompts our blogging/writing tribe/group is using to inspire us to be more regular in our blog posts. I sort of skipped over the one for last week, which was "Seven Needs." Maybe I will get back to it later. I do have a few things in mind. But for now, here is my response to the prompt of "Six Places."

On the deck of a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean. There is no visible land, only water. And then you realize, there are no birds flying. And even though the ship feels huge, a whole independent world unto itself, in the grand scheme of things, you look out on all that water and you feel so tiny standing there on the deck of your "huge" ship.
The little open air Episcopal chapel down in Big Lake with the gothic arched windows the Episcopals seem to favor so much, with the wooden floors and the crosses hung on the few walls there are and the pond just off to the right and the Gulf of Mexico beyond that.
The front porch on the land where my grandparents lived, the “little house” or their house, it doesn’t matter, the front porch was the place where the visiting was done and the setting of the sun was watched.
The sanctuary that is inside me no matter where I actually am. Lately it has been so very hard to find but it is always there. It seems that road must be travelled slowly.
In the presence of another who sees the seedier parts of me and is not alarmed, surely that too is a real place, a comforting place.
The bosom of Abraham, the hands of God, those are real places too.
Dry Creek Baptist Encampment, where I lived out so much of my spiritual growth. I went there as a child, worked there as a teen, and returned as an adult to shepherd little elementary school girls through a week of camp. This is where I met Sinclair, one of my favorite campers of all time. Sinclair had serious mental health issues and the most winsome smile you’ve ever seen. I wonder tonight what kind of place she is in.

Watching the Brown-eyed Girl Count Fireflies
(for Sinclair)

She has seen spiders
in her breakfast bowl

where mother saw grits,

and terror in her daughter’s eyes.

There were snakes slithering forward,
threatening to swallow her whole
as mother moved to offer comfort.

Moments later, the child
asks for red jelly.
To make a smiley face on her grits.

Now she counts fireflies, their stochastic

blinks dancing in unsteady rhythm

with the neurons in her brain.

When music breaks the quiet of night,

her attention shifts. She searches to see

what kind of bird sings in darkness, why

her notes tremble and swell.

(I've written about Sinclair before, and posted this poem here before as well. I don't know what brought her and the poem so strongly to my mind tonight. Well, I do have my suspicions, but I am not quite ready to talk about it!)

Big Girl Procedures (Old People Procedures?)

2011-10-04T22:17:00.001-05:00

Today I had my first screening colonoscopy. I fretted a bit about having to do it but everybody I talked to said it would be a relatively easy procedure. I suppose it was. But today I learned something about myself that I did not know.

In the course of my lamenting and kvetching to a therapist friend about having the procedure done, I mentioned my fear of undignified situations, and how, for me, an undignified situation equals being out of control, and how being out of control means I feeling vulnerable and I don't like feeling vulnerable. He suggested I think of myself going into the procedure as a child and knowing the adults were there to take care of me.

We were sitting in the room where they take your blood pressure and double check your meds and all and I hear the man next door telling the nurse he woke up too early last time he had the procedure. I thought that was no big deal, it meant he got to go home earlier. But no, he meant he woke up during the procedure! I silently cursed the man for putting that thought in my head.

I really was not as nervous as I thought I'd be but when they wheeled me out to go to the operating room and left me lying on the gurney for a minute or two, I thought about the child (little girl) trick. So there I am, a fifty-something grown woman without her glasses on lying flat on her back pretending to be a little girl. And all these faceless adults I was hearing as they whooshed by me were there to take care of me. I couldn't see too much but I could hear plenty. I heard water running and a sucking sound and thought, to my horror, that they were working on someone just off to my left, with only a curtain separating us! But it was just a woman washing out a big tub.

I shrunk, lying there pretending to be a little girl. I could not tell what was going on, could not see who was coming up behind me and let me tell you.The longer I laid there, the more nervous I got. I learned pretty quickly that my little girl self is far less trusting of people than my adult self. She wanted to high-tail it out of there! I had to go back to being my adult self and I had to reassure my little girl self that everything really was going to be all right. In spite of her not trusting that situation and wanting to leave, my little girl self is tough and scrappy, but she does not like to be cornered into situations where she has no control. Sometimes more so than my adult self, I believe.

So they wheeled my adult self into the operating room and started the procedure. I woke up during the procedure! My little girl self must have been the one quietly watching the screen while my adult self was trying to hear what they were saying. I could not make out the words. The screen was quite interesting, I saw this loop thing but then it started getting uncomfortable and I mentioned to them that I was awake. They said they would give me more medicine and they did. And the next thing I knew they were talking to me again. Now I wonder if that was not some drug-induced dream but I think it was real. And I think part of the reason I was so calm was because my friend Cyn said next time she had hers done, she was not going to take any meds and was going to watch the whole thing. I figured I was awake, so I may as well watch at least a little bit of the show. Weird, huh?

I think the loop thing I saw was the tool they use to cut polyps. I had several of them cut off and one partially cut off because they could not get to all of it due to where it was located. So, yeah, I am waiting for a call about the biopsy and praying all will be clear.

And now, what I really want to know. Do any of you have other versions of yourself that you are aware of that help through certain things? Or am I the only one?

Eight Fears

2011-10-01T09:37:00.000-05:00

Okay, another one for a prompt from my tribe of blogging friends!

Eight Fears:

I fear (in no particular order):

Choking
Rats and mice-I was told last week they are really two different animals but in my mind they are all the same. It is that long skinny that really grosses me out. We have a rat lab in our psychology department. I have to order the baby rats. When they arrive (usually via a slightly chubby and out of breath UPS man who has traipsed across campus carrying this box of critters), if the right people are there, they come out of their office and coo over the baby rats. Occasionally they open the box and pick the rats up and cuddle on them. I try to stay pretty much out of sight when this is going on. And I am careful about admitting how scary they are to me because this is the psych dept and if you let them know you are scared of something, they will try to desensitize you to your fear. I don’t want to be desensitized because that would mean I would have to come into close contact with a rat.
Anger
Unhappiness-I don’t want any of my family to be unhappy and I spent years trying to keep that from happening. Guess what? It did not work.
Spiders
Being rear ended-There was a time frame of about a year and a half where I was rear ended THREE times. The last time totaled my car and I had to be hauled away in an ambulance. They were trying to lift me out of the car and my dress got hung on something and was holding me back and Lord, I thought they were going to pull my dress off my body. I can now give a really mean "get off my a**" look if someone is following me too closely. It always impresses me when they clearly get my message and back off a bit because I am not usually a commanding person.
Ambulance rides-They strapped me down too tight and I had to threaten to go crazy on them if they did not at least loosen the strap around my feet a teeny tint bit. I must have been convincing because they loosen the strap. A teeny tiny bit.
Undignified situations-such as being pulled out of a car by hunky ambulance men and getting hung up, making it look like you were almost too heavy for them to lift.

Wow, I made it to eight! I might not have been finished with my list!

One of my bigger, most serious fears (that I am working on) is the fear of there not being enough for me. I am trying to break the mindset of thinking in terms of scarcity. I am trying to call forward my own sufficiency (and what I am talking about is way bigger than money).

That makes me think of this quote I copied from someone else's blog a while back:

Lynne Twist wrote this, it's from her book The Soul of Money--

"For me, and for many of us, our first waking thought of the day is "I didn't get enough sleep." The next one is "I don't have enough time." Whether true or not, that thought of not enough occurs to us automatically before we even think to question or examine it. We spend most of the hours and the days of our lives hearing, explaining, complaining, or worrying that we don't have enough of. . .We don't have enough exercise. We don't have enough work. We don't have enough profits. We don't have enough power. We don't have enough wilderness. We don't have enough weekends. Of course, we don't have enough money--ever.

We're not thin enough, we're not smart enough, we're not pretty enough or fit enough or successful enough, or rich enough--ever. Before we even sit up in bed, before our feet touch the floor, we're already inadequate, already behind, already losing, already lacking something. And by the time we go to bed at night, our minds race with a litany of what we didn't get, or didn't get done, that day. We go to sleep burdened by those thoughts and wake up to the reverie of lack. . .What begins as a simple expression of the hurried life, or even the challenged life, grows into the great justification for an unfulfilled life. . .

We each have the choice in any setting to step back and let go of the mind-set of scarcity. Once we let go of scarcity, we discover the surprising truth of sufficiency. By sufficiency, I don't mean a quantity of anything. Sufficiency isn't two steps up from poverty or one step short of abundance. It isn't a measure of barely enough or more than enough. Sufficiency isn't an amount at all. It is an experience, a context we generate, a declaration, a knowing that there is enough, and that we are enough.

Sufficiency resides inside of each of us, and we can call it forward. It is a consciousness, an attention, an intentional choosing of the way we think about our circumstances." ---Lynne Twist

Wordless Wednesday 09/28/11

2011-09-28T06:42:00.001-05:00

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wordless Wednesday 09/21/11

2011-09-21T05:00:00.000-05:00

Nine Loves

2011-09-19T19:43:00.000-05:00

Getting outside with my camera
Creating my thangs
The land up where my grandparents’ lived (the “country”)
My family
Time alone, solitude
Sunday services at my church
Reading and learning about stuff that catches my attention on the internet
Tending the fire in the fireplace in winter
Rocking in my rocking chair. It soothes me. Sometimes I don’t have to be in a rocking chair to enjoy rocking-my professor friends tease me about it, one says I am “on the spectrum." I'm never really totally still, come to think of it. Even when I drive, I am making circles with my thumb on the steering wheel. . .wait, this is not the "secrets" post. :)

Wordless Wednesday 09/14/11

2011-09-14T19:33:00.000-05:00

Dadburn Mountains, Horizons and Never Arriving

2011-09-13T22:07:00.005-05:00

Yeah, I know I just put this "thang" up in yesterday's post! The message is still very important to me, but there was a nagging problem with it. I couldn't quite put my finger on what was bugging me. After reading this essay (go read it, I love it, isn't it the most beautiful thing?), I was able to do a better job of figuring out what it was about my words that sort of bothered me.

The problem for me is the words “you are being made whole.” They imply that there is a place to which I will arrive which will be better than where (or who) I am now and when I have arrived there, I will be something, which to me equals something like this: if I am now broken and then eventually made whole, then I am worthy. But if I am presently broken, then I must now be an old piece of crap.

When I read, “I will not get to the mountains. I’ve been told as much, but you can’t swallow this kind of knowledge until you have some perspective,” I thought of a friend who often reminds me that we never truly arrive. And just now, in writing this, I am also reminded of my favorite quote from photographer W. Eugene Smith, “Never have I found the limits of the photographic potential. Every horizon, upon being reached, reveals another beckoning in the distance. Always, I am on the threshold.” All of these messages are hard words for me to swallow.

Oh how I have complained about always being on the threshold. How hard I have worked at trying to figure out how to arrive faster so that I can finally let go and sit down and quit struggling! And yet, here is the “why” of why I can’t put too much stock in my “message” that “though I am broken, I am being made whole.” If I am spending too much time looking forward to being made whole, then I am not spending enough time looking at the ground that is beneath my feet right now. It is as he says, “If you can’t reach the mountains, you might as well get to know the trail.” And if I am not aware of the ground that I am presently standing on, I am not living, I am wasting my travels.

Wow. Just think, if one can accept that you will not reach the mountains, or that you will not arrive, or that there will be another horizon, one can quit struggling so hard. Whoa. That is a whole 'nother level of enlightenment for me! I'll have to think some more on that one!

(I've written before about Eugene Smith's quote and what it means to me, griped about never "arriving," about always having another horizon. Check it out if you are interested: Blooming Late, It's Better Than Not Blooming At All and Walking To Paradise Garden, One Day at a Time. What a blast from the past!)

Secrets

2011-09-12T20:07:00.000-05:00

So, my little tribe of blogging buddies is participating in a challenge that asks you to list ten secrets. At first, I decided I was not going to participate, but I have been so touched by the posts I’ve read so far that I hate not to join in. I think I’ll write a little story and you can glean whatever secrets you can from what I write (it’s no secret that I sometimes make up my own rules for these things, and also no secret that I tend to keep my secrets close to my vest, which can be a good thing, as Rach pointed out, but also a bad thing.) Well, turns out, I might start my story out with a secret. . .

A few years ago, I discovered that one of the Episcopal churches in town offered a labyrinth walk about once a quarter. I’d read about them online and was very interested in going, so I went, by myself, to see what it was all about. The first time around I was extremely uncomfortable and self-conscious. But it turned out to be a good experience for me and so I returned several times. I even told my husband about it and he came along a few times. I enjoy it very much. Usually things will come up, nothing really earth shattering but I will journal about them afterwards. There is something about the atmosphere too. It is a cloth labyrinth and they have it in their gym. They usually have candles lit and a small altar and instrumental music or chants playing. This last time seemed to be Native American flute music.

The art work above is a result of something that came to me the last time I walked. Hebrews 11:1 is one of my favorite verses and it popped into my head as I was walking. And soon I was “hearing” this: “It is in this way that you, though broken, are being made whole.” I have such a problem with turning on myself and thinking I am not good enough. I am getting better at being nice to myself but this was a very comforting thing to “hear.” I wrote it down in my journal afterwards.

When I finished walking, and was out of the labyrinth looking back in, there was another thing I was “hearing.” I wrote it in my journal:

Well, so, I’ve shared the secrets that I enjoy walking labyrinths and that I sometimes “hear” things while I am walking.

There are some serious tensions in my home right now. I am fearful of our future. I'm tired.

I wish I had some fun secrets to tell.

That is all.

Freedom

2011-09-11T15:38:00.001-05:00

I wrote an idea for a thang in my notebook, about how joy is supposed to come in the morning, and how sometimes the night lingers on for so long. Late in this morning's church service a woman came and sat beside me. I was a bit sprawled out and had to readjust to make room for her. She smiled and said "excuse me." I soon realized her husband was across the aisle. There was not so much room for them to sit together. He is the man who has been battling cancer for a couple of years. There is nothing more he can do. The cancer is in a knot on his neck and they can't stop the growth or remove it. At this point there is nothing for him to do but wait for the growth to run into that artery (the one my father just had surgery on) and for it to burst, killing him instantly. But the man keeps on living. He is not dead yet. How I admire that in him. And he says he would not trade this experience for anything, for he has learned to live, and has moved closer to God, and relationships have been healed. He has experienced a very long night. He looks gray with death but he is living until he dies. That man is free.

I hesitate now to say I want that kind of freedom, because I don't know if I am willing to pay the price. . .

A Story! Pictures! A Poem!

2011-09-07T20:44:00.000-05:00

I used to belong to a group where we would be given a quote and we were supposed to write about the first memory that came to mind after we read the quote. We not supposed to write as though we were looking back at the memory, but rather as though we were present in the story at that moment. I sometimes struggled with that task. The group often told me it was as if I were holding myself back, like I was an observer of my own story. I was probably in fourth or fifth grade at the time this happened.

We are walking in the woods after lunch. My grandfather always seems particularly pleased when we do this. Sometimes, just the men get to go on these walks. When we ask where they are going, they always say they are going to see a man about a dog. But today, all of us are going--Mom and Dad, Paw-Paw and Granny, Linda and Timmy. Granny is finishing up in the kitchen and then we can leave.

Sometimes we go and check the hog pens to see if there are hogs in the trap. Most every time we check the fox feeder to put corn out or to see if they have eaten the corn that was left for them. Paw-Paw always has something going on in the woods. He loves the woods. He will usually point out tracks in the sand for us to see. Fox tracks, rabbit tracks, dog tracks, deer tracks, hog tracks, all kinds of tracks. He can't see that well, but he can see those tracks.

Once he cut a branch off a dogwood tree and told me if I would scrape the bark away, the branch would turn pure white, just like if it had been bleached. I saved it and took it home and scraped the bark away and sure enough, it is pure white, pure white.

Today the grownups are talking about the corner lines and about the old spring that used to be back by the creek. Paw-Paw keeps that cleared away so the water will continue to flow. I can't quite understand their fascination with the spring. It's just an old hole with water constantly coming out of the ground, like a house that never gets clean, it is always muddy around there.

I don't understand the fascination with corner markers either. We are walking through briars now, getting all scratched up. Mama and Granny, who are in their dresses, are stepping high to avoid getting their legs all scratched up. When we finally get to the corner marker, all it is is a concrete stick pocking up out of the ground. But the adults all know where these markers are, and they stand around talking about who owns the property that meets up at this marker.

There are also stories being told about how you can follow the road and cross the creek "back there" and end up at Aunt Ella's house. Thankfully, we are not going that way today. We are turning around and heading back to the house. As usually happens on these walks, they are all telling stories now.

Daddy starts talking about how they used to bend a young sapling down and get on it like a horse and then let it go and they would "ride" the sapling. That sounds like so much fun! I'm asking if I can do that now and the grown-ups are all acting like they are not sure I can. I am wondering now if Daddy made this story up or what. Finally, after my persistent begging (I can be very persuasive, this I already know about myself), Daddy and Paw-Paw are looking for a suitable tree for me to ride.

They have found one now and both of them bend the tree over so I can get on it. I am so excited about getting to do this. I straddle across the tree and receive my last-minute instructions to hold on tight, no matter what. I can't wait for them to let go of this tree so that I can go flying through the air. I wonder what it is going to feel like. . .

Well, that was not what I expected to happen. I am on the ground with the wind knocked out of me. That has only happened to me one other time. I hate when that happens. The grown-ups are looking at me with concern and are trying to help me up. Someone is dusting off my backside. What a stir I have caused!

After a few moments, my wits are recollected and I can now breathe normally again. We are heading back to the house now, and analyzing my failure to launch. It seems my biggest problem was that I forgot to hold on tight. When the tree went up, I went down and hit the ground, hard. I probably should have bent over closer to the trunk of the tree and hugged it harder than I did. I don't much care what went wrong. I don't think I'll ever want to try that again.

And here is a poem I wrote about the day the surveyors came to survey part of the land that we were selling (after both my grandparents had died) with another look at the corner markers and the Artesian spring.

Surveying the Land

Sitting on a stump by the rippling stream,
barely a foot wider than my stride.
Just wide enough to keep me from following the procession
led by the machete wielding land surveyor, who whacks
his way through briar and thicket,
seeking the corner marker to our wood.

Were it not for the steady whack, whack, whack
of the machete and the warning caw of the crow,
I would be at peace, wooded by the shimmer of water
and the rustle of leaves, meditating on a quiet winter day.
Thoreau on his pond, Emerson in his woods. The surveyor works,
carving away a piece of my I still hold tightly in my heart.

When I was a child, my grandfather led the way on this land,
past the Artesian spring that bubbled from the ground,
stopping at each land marker as though they were sacred monuments,
testimony to places where God touched the earth,
setting boundaries on our own slice of Eden.

The sound of tree limbs being severed by a man
snatches me back to the present. Birds squawk
mournfully above my head, while the briar branch tears
flesh as I pull it idly through my hands. Looking down, I am surprised
to see blood marking the place where I released grandfather's
memory and walked away empty handed, stripped
of land that meant so much to us both.

Wordless Wednesday 09/07/11

2011-09-07T18:30:00.000-05:00

Wordless Wednesday 08/31/11

2011-08-31T21:35:00.002-05:00

Tales of the Hapless, Nervous Photographer

2011-08-27T18:17:00.000-05:00

I was chatting on Facebook the other night with a friend and she said this about faith. I liked it a lot and asked if would be okay for me to use it in one of my “thangs” when the proper photograph presented itself. She said it was fine with her and I began to think of what photo I might use. This is a boat (a pirogue, actually) she and I have often noticed on one of the local bayous. It is in sort of an out of the way spot and most people would not notice it. But we noticed and often said we wanted to get a picture of it before it disappears. They are doing construction on a small bridge in that area and I don’t know if the person who owns the boat will be able to keep their boat their much longer. I decided I wanted a photo of that boat for this “thang.”

As it is, the land around where the boat is tied is messy from the construction and the dirt they have brought in. And I am such a nervous photographer when it comes to getting pictures like this (I know, I just need to get over myself! No one is concerned about that crazy lady down there in the red shirt taking pictures!). I had to park on a short cement drive very close to the road. Then I had to get out of the car and walk a little ways to get closer to the boat. The grass needed mowing and it was still a little wet from recent rains. I was wearing flip flops in high grass near water. That is not real smart. There could have been snakes in the grass!

As I was maneuvering my way through the grass and trying to figure out my best plan to get to the boat, I was trying to get my lens cap off my camera. I also had my cell phone in my hand. The camera strap was around my neck (I’m not that dumb!) but I dropped the lens cap in the grass. I looked and looked for it but could not find it. I was so self-conscious because I figured people driving by on the road and could see me (with my butt up in the air) looking for something in the grass. And of course I had on the brightest reddest shirt I owned (note to self: buy some camouflage t-shirts).

Finally I decided getting the picture was more important than finding the lens cap so I moved from the high grass onto what I thought was firm ground. It looked like packed sand. But as I took a few steps more and more of it started sticking to my flip flops and I started to slip and slide a bit. Then I started to sink. I moved over to a grassy spot that looked solid but it was also sinking (and then I said to myself, “oh, self, you should have told someone where you were going this fine morning that might also be your last morning”). I had to move further away to get to more grass like the tall grass I had started in and then I had to step over some black mesh to get closer to the edge of the bayou, where it was easier to walk.

I took my pictures and fiddled around a little while. I usually get into a zone when I am taking pictures and I forget all about being self-conscious. When I finished I went back to the spot where I dropped my lens cap and looked again for it but did not find it. I came back home and worked a bit with the photos I’d gotten and this is what I did. Then I took myself to Best Buy and bought me another lens cap. Because I would have just died if I had not been able to replace that thing this very day.

Truth is I am standing on wobbly ground right now (sometimes it doesn’t seem like I ever get very far from it). I told this same friend sometimes I think being “on the edge” is supposed to be my place of service, the place where I let my little light shine. But it’s not shining too brightly at this present moment. This is a temporary thing. I know it will pass. But in the meantime, I sort of wish I had me a little red-trimmed row boat to paddle around in.

Wordless Wednesday 08/24/11

2011-08-24T05:00:00.002-05:00

Whole Hearted Living (Brené Brown)

2011-08-19T19:05:00.000-05:00

"Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It's about cultivating the courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. It's going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn't change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging." Brené Brown

I mentioned in a post on July 17^th that I was taking an online class that would likely “drag up a bunch of stuff for me to deal with”. Well, it’s hard to believe but that class is ending now and I have a few things to say about the experience.

First, let me tell you what I told a dear friend about this class:

"She (Brené Brown) has these "badges" on her blog that are for putting on your own blog. One says "I choose authenticity" and the other says "I choose to live and love with my whole heart." That's what the course is theoretically leading up to. I will make a little progress but I will never be able to choose authenticity or to live and love with my whole heart. Never. I can't let go like that." --Me

For a long while now, I have just been trying to work on accepting the “fact” that I am just hopelessly broken and can only go so far in my personal growth. I considered the idea of worthiness and living and loving with my whole heart as being totally out of my reach because of that “brokenness.”

For a long while now, I have also lived with a very guarded heart. I feel like I’ve kept it fairly well hidden, that I was good at pretending and playing along at being open, but when it was just me, myself and I, I knew the truth, and that truth was (and still is, to some degree), I will only let people so far into my heart. I am very protective of me. And all the vulnerability stuff she talks about? Don’t even get me started on that! I HATE vulnerability! But there were some things I heard in this class that meant a great deal to me. One of the things I heard was that you can’t have community without vulnerability. And I know that I desire a sense of community so I guess I am going to take some risks. (And of course, the very safe and protective part of me is saying, “Remember, she said to tell your story to people who have earned the right to hear it, in relationships that can bear the weight of the story.” So yes, I will still be somewhat guarded, I suppose, but I will also be more mindful about paying attention to the possibilities of connection and less worried about self-protection. And now that other part of me is also saying, “Remember, she said you won’t do this perfectly.” Now THAT’S a more helpful reminder, Miss Safe and Protective part of me!)

I was not always this way and I have my suspicions as to why I became this way. I think part of it has to do with one of my first great sorrows (see quote in the photo below). I may write more about that sorrow one of these days. At the very least, I will spend some time in my journal trying to pull apart the threads. Maybe healing will come in that area of pain. I’d sure like that.

Goodness, I haven’t said anything about what this is really all about! It’s really about SHAME and how people experience shame in their lives and how nobody wants to talk about it. The very same friend who I told I would never be able to choose to live and love with my whole heart was the first to gently point out that some of the things I said and believed about myself come from a place of shame (give credit where credit is due, he is not a “normal” everyday friend, he is a therapist, so he knows about these things!). So when I heard Brené’s talk on shame and vulnerability, believe me, my ears perked up and, give me credit where credit is due, I KNEW she was talking about stuff I desperately needed to hear.

So, today, I have added the dadgum badges. They will remind me of the life I hope to live, of the person I’d like to be. We were asked early in the class which things we might take on our journey into this new experience and which things we would leave behind. Two of the things I said I’d leave behind were the lock that goes on my heart and the shield that covers my heart. Lord knows, that shield is heavy and as I’ve said before, “a locked heart is a useless heart”.

"When we start engaging with the world from a place of worthiness, the opposite of shame, from a place of “I am enough”, we walk into our power, we walk into our gifts, we walk into possibility, we walk into love and belonging, not only the ability to give it but to receive it, to let ourselves be seen and known and I think that’s what it’s all about." Brené Brown

Lord, I surely do hope so. May it go straight from Brené’s mouth to your ear. : )

(If any of this resonates with you, or if you just want more information, here is the link to the TED talk that first got my attention, http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html. She also has many talks on YouTube. She is an engaging and funny speaker. Also, here is the link to her website, http://www.brenebrown.com/welcome. I would put a link to the course but I did not see one. Maybe she will offer it again sometime. The course is called "Ordinary Courage".)

Wordless Wednesday 08/17/11

2011-08-17T06:43:00.000-05:00

Fictional Shopping Trip

2011-08-12T21:27:00.000-05:00

Okay, so this is not the kind of writing I usually do here. This is in response to a prompt that has us sending our character out shopping so we can learn a little more about them. This is nowhere near fully developed and it's really kind of silly. But here it is.

When she first heard the news, Lydia went out and bought Diane one of those pretty atomizer bottles of lilac scented whoop-ass. Nah, it wasn’t really gonna do a dad-burn thing. It was more along the lines of that “Monster Spray” they used to sell for kids to spray up under their beds and in their closets to keep the monsters at bay. It didn’t have any magic ingredients, at least not any Lydia knew of, only purified water, a little lilac oil scent and a whole lotta hope. Lord knows, she was going to need something to give herself a little backbone.

As long as she was already in the store, she went ahead and picked up a bag of “Believe in Yourself” lavender bath salts. She figured that would come in handy ‘bout bedtime when the doubts started circling and sleep appeared to have run screaming for the woods. Diane never did care for being alone come night time. She figured the lavender scent would help her sleep. Well, that and the several many bottles of muscadine wine she’d picked up last week on a side trip to Mississippi, strictly for medicinal purposes, you understand.

And for purely aesthetical reasons, she stopped off at the Golden Dirt Garden Center and picked up three red geraniums potted in terra cotta pots. They would look right nice sitting there at the edge of the porch. One thing Diane had been adamant about bringing with her was the rocking chair. She could sit there in the mornings and sip her coffee and watch the geraniums grow.

She knew there’d be plenty of other practical needs along the way and she figured there’d be time enough to worry about those other things tomorrow.

It was such a cute little place, Lydia was almost jealous.

Wordless Wednesday 08/10/11

2011-08-10T00:18:00.000-05:00

Shelling Peas on the Porch at Dusk

2011-08-07T16:46:00.000-05:00

"In many Eastern traditions, the world of nature is considered to be maya, or illusion, while in other Eastern and Global South traditions, nature is mother. Western tradition has often teetered between the assertion that nature is God’s good creation and that it has been “frustrated” by human sin. In more recent times, the world around us has been regarded as the expression of random selection and chance. Explore some aspect of nature (as in the non-human world) and write a short piece (fiction, poem, mini-essay) in which your descriptions reflect and reveal your philosophical understanding of nature..."without actually stating directly what your philosophical position is."

I've thought and thought and could not come up with a new piece of writing for this prompt. I feel like I am cheating in a way, because this is a poem I wrote back in 2002. But on the other hand, if I'd keep my own mouth shut, no one would know that I was "cheating" because I have not shared much of my poetry on this blog!

I am not sure I have met the qualifications of the prompt with this poem, but it is one of the things I thought of as I thought about the prompt. I've written about some aspect of nature, that much I do believe. And maybe, in some ways, my philosophical understanding of nature is revealed. SOMETHING is being revealed, that is for sure (perhaps my poet self?).

Shelling Peas On The Porch At Dusk

Dusky dark, being neither day nor night,
disturbs the child. The breeze holds
its breath and waits for dark to fall,
smothering them in pitch. The grown-ups
shell their peas with quiet abandon.

The symphony of crickets magnifies.
No other noise, save soft voices
of the old folks, telling stories of times passed
and perhaps, the screaming woman
sound of a peacock deep in the woods.

The woman swings on an empty porch
and remembers the little girl who shelled
her peas and listened to these simple sounds.

In the distance a lone coyote wails.

Wordless Wednesday 08/03/11

2011-08-03T05:39:00.000-05:00

Delight

2011-07-30T10:53:00.002-05:00

Here is the latest prompt from our Facebook writing group, Write, Eat, Post, Bathe. I am delighted about how the group came together and about the reconnecting we have done around our blog writing.

Optional prompt of the week: Take note of the things that annoy you this week. See if there is a pattern. Time, place, person, situation. Don't write about the annoyances. Just note them for your own record and ponder. After a few days of that, pick something that delights you and write about that. Poem, a few pithy sentences, short story, essay, flash fiction, shopping list, any genre. Let's see if we can take note of the bad but write the good. (This prompt is something I especially need.)

Delight

Oh, delight. Wherefore art thou, delight?

I am that first cup of coffee, helping you to greet the morning. I am that feeling you feel when you walk out the door of your building at work and you see the quad with its winding brick path and all those centuries old live oak trees. I am the one who is with you when you go out with your camera (weren’t you going to give your camera a name?) to capture your images of the world around you. I am the smile you smile when you are sketching a face and you get the lips just right, or the eyes both looking in the same direction, or the nose shaded well. Whatever, I am the concentration you bring to the drawing. I am that feeling you get in church when are enveloped in music so loud you can’t hear yourself sing (which, frankly, is just as well) and your heart is so still and quiet and you realize God is there with you in all the raucous and joyful noise. I am the golden heart-shaped leaves of your redbud tree, harbinger of fall. I am the green heart-shaped leaves of your redbud tree, reminding you, again, that spring and warmer, brighter days will soon come. I am the light-hearted loving moments in your family- don’t lose sight of me in their eyes, find me there. I am that small glass of wine at the end of the day, saying “goodnight moon.”

I am yours, my love, if only you will look and see.

OMG - A Snippet From One of My Recent Days

2011-07-27T21:56:00.000-05:00

I work in the Psychology Department of our local university as an administrative assistant. This all actually happened one day last week and I was emailing a friend a "blow by blow" description of the event as it was unfolding. The counselor was in with another client so it was just me and this woman in the office. Here is the note. There are no names named in order to protect the innocent. In fact, this might not have happened. I might have dreamed it, or I might have made the whole story up.

Here is how it went:

There is a woman in our office right now, a client waiting her turn for gambling counseling.

She has:

Helped herself to the office phone to call her pastor to pray for her.

Taken over my phone book to find a home health service place she is looking for to apply for a job.

Called two home health service places to talk about coming in to apply.

Asked me to get online with the LA Employment Service (I did manage to point her to the student computer, which she is now using like it is hers and she is in her own personal office--oh, she says, "I should have asked if you were busy.")

Asked me to print TWO copies of her resume. (After I told her I had to put a code in for her to print, and she says, "to stop students from printing stuff?" Umm, yeah, you got it lady. I am not supposed to let people print stuff here. )

And I can't tell her no!!!

And now she says "Uh-oh, I got a problem. I changed one of my references and I need to reprint."

I went over and put the code in and she says "I bet you saying I know this woman got a problem. I bet you wish I'd leave you alone."

Me? I said "Oh no, ma'am, problems happen to all of us sometimes."

Didn't have the heart to tell her I was recording the event for posterity as it happened.

I think I need to grow me some balls.

But I was being all empathic.

And she did tell the counselor how helpful I'd been.

And the counselor also confirmed that I was helpful.

I still think I need to grow me some balls.

Wordless Wednesday 07/27/11

2011-07-27T05:00:00.000-05:00

Feet

2011-07-25T22:25:00.000-05:00

I went looking for a drawing I thought I had of feet and realized the drawing I was thinking of was actually a drawing of shoes. In the meantime, I came across this oldie but goodie and decided to stick it up here. I wrote the little saying and I have to say that I just love the sentiment. The feet are horribly cut and pasted onto the black background and I have often thought of trying to get a better foot picture and putting the saying on the better photo. I just have not gotten around to it.

Other foot memories:

When my brother was in the hospital for the last time, toward the end, he was very quiet. And every time I'd leave, I'd give a little tug on the big toe of his right foot and then I'd tell him bye. One night, his wife laughed and said "you know he hates when you do that." I never thought he did and I kept on doing it. I am not a good hand holder and sometimes that was the only way I had to tell him I loved him and cared for him and dad-gum it, I really didn't want him to go.

When I was younger, the three of us, me, my younger sister and my younger brother would visit our uncle on my father's side. He had a dairy farm and sometimes we would ride on the tailgate of the truck while they herded the cows up the road. The road was red dirt and we were always going incredibly slow behind the cows and the dust just looked so pretty swirling up in clouds behind us. So pretty that I got this brilliant idea to stretch my feet down and drag them through the red dirt leaving little stretched out foot tracks in the road. It was a hot summer day and the dirt was so warm on my feet. I was having a really good time until I noticed the dirt had taken on a different feel, especially in between my toes. Well. I looked down and to my absolute horror, I realized that I was dragging my feet through pretty red dirt AND yucky wet cow pie! Needless to say, I scooted back up on the tailgate and did not drag my feet anymore.

That's about all I have to say about feet.

(Oh, yeah, this is a response to a fun writing prompt from my writing/blogging tribe/group. I didn't just all of a sudden take a hankering to write about feet! And I did not really do the subject justice, but there is no pressure to perform in this group, which is a good thing!)

Wordless Wednesday 07/20/11

2011-07-20T05:44:00.001-05:00

You Are Not Alone

2011-07-19T19:39:00.001-05:00

I still remember how comforting it felt when the old guy at the teen rehab center bent down to look me in the eye and tell me "you are not alone" and then bent down and reminded my surly son as well. He was busy doing what he had to do, guiding my son and his suitcase to the back so my son could change clothes and he could check the suitcase for contraband. We'd never been through that before, my son and I, and it meant the world to me that the old man stopped and made eye contact with each us to tell us we were not alone. I was scared to death at what I was doing.

And that is today's lesson in this Ordinary Courage course I am taking: You are not alone.

It never hurts to be reminded.

"To Use Our Own Voice. To See Our Own Light."

2011-07-17T13:24:00.001-05:00

I am struggling a bit with allowing myself to live with my own interpretations.

I am taking an online class right now that will likely drag up a bunch of stuff for me to deal with. Hopefully, once I am done, I will be better able to deal with the stuff and to live the life I am intended to live.

Some of you who read this blog fairly regularly may be interested in this woman's work, if not for yourself, then maybe for people you know. Her name is Brene` Brown and her website can be found here. I ~~read~~ hurried through her book The Gifts of Imperfection. It was excellent but I need to go back through it and go a little slower this time around. She also did a TED talk which you can find on YouTube if you'd like to listen.

That's about all I have to say about that at the moment. Perhaps there will be more later.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-07-13T05:00:00.001-05:00

I Write Because I Still Have Work To Do

2011-07-12T20:25:00.000-05:00

I write to figure out what I am thinking.

I write to tell of the things I see. But I am subtle about it. I won’t come straight out and say what I see. I want the reader to see what they see, not what I tell them to see.

I write with a loose hand, knowing that when I let my words go, they are no longer mine, hoping that people will take from them what they need.

I write to record my version of the story, which will not be like any other person’s version because no one else has my eyes or ears.

I like when I have written something that resonates with others.

I don’t talk much so it seems I have to write.

I will probably never write in any professional capacity, though sometimes I dream of writing a book (but what would I write about?)

I got away from writing on my blog when I started hanging around on Facebook. Then I started to feel like maybe I didn’t have much to say after all. And when I tried to think about writing on my blog, I started to imagine how goobery I might sound to people from my real life. I feel like I have found my tribe in those of you who still read my blog, like I have found a group of people with whom I share common traits and a common need, which is to write. Online tribes are very special and I am grateful for the sense of community.

I am learning that I worry far too much about what other people think about what I am doing or saying. I am learning that it is okay for me to see what I see and feel what I feel. But It’s a long slow process.

It seems I still have quite a lot of work to do. . .

Convergence

2011-07-09T19:33:00.001-05:00

What happens when lines converge? We know if we swam or walked to the "end" of the lines in these photos, we'd still see the same two lines we see now, with the same convergence going out of the top of the photo.

But look at the photos. Here we are at the beginning of the journey. We have a left and a right. We have an inside and an outside. If we were a boat or a train, we'd definitely have a right and a wrong. A train can't travel far when it is off the track (reminds me of one of my favorite "Little Golden" books, about Tootle, who has to take lessons on "staying on the track no matter what"). When we are young, we need to learn to make these distinctions. Friend? Stranger? Good behavior? Bad behavior?

But when we are older, and if we grow wiser, we begin to realize that some of those distinctions are no longer as clear as they used to be, nor or they as necessary as they used to be. The lines that used to be so clear begin to blur. And then what happens?

I think freedom happens. And self-acceptance, which leads to healthy self-love. When that happens I think you settle into an ease, with yourself, with the world, with the people closest to you, with your faith. I think the heart gets larger.

(I'm not quite there yet. It's one of the reasons I don't allow "annie" to be on Facebook. But I'm working with myself on that problem. I have the right to be who I am. I have the obligation and the responsibility to be who I am.)

Do What You Can...

2011-07-08T08:04:00.000-05:00

This one started off with a dictionary page glued to watercolor paper and then painted with the little girl added as a transfer.The last layer was the text which was printed and stained with paint then glued on. I've been thinking I might go back and add a layer of machine stitching around the text paper. I've had trouble with these darker backgrounds trying to figure out how to make the text more readable.

The text says "Do what you can, suffer when you must, love and grow as you are able." Really, what else can we do?

I talked yesterday with someone who was complaining about a mother who was being pushy in trying to get help for her young son who has developmental issues. The mother was angry with the insurance company about not providing for certain services for her son. The mother was pushing on the office that was providing the services. The mother was suffering.

I wondered out loud whether or not the mother was struggling with letting go of the dreams and hopes she had for her son, just beginning to mourn all the things that would not be, and not yet "there" in terms of acceptance so that her battle to help her son was still a little awkward.

The mother is suffering. How does that old saying go, "suffering in inevitable, growth is optional"? I had these flowery thoughts that I hope she grows into her suffering and becomes a formidable advocate for her son. I do hope that happens (and I believe it will). But right now, today, my biggest prayer for her would be that bitterness does not touch her. Because sometimes, when you see suffering lying there on the table, and you start thinking of all the losses and the things that will not be, well at the beginning, you have no way of knowing the good that often comes from suffering. You see the suffering and the loss and you can't imagine that any kind of brightness could come from such loss. But so often, there is brightness. And there will be brightness here, too. She will see it if bitterness does not sneak in and cloud her eyes.

May she more often than not be met with patience and grace on her journey. And may she have more than a few friends along the way who are willing and able to hold the light for her and who are wise enough to gently remind her to "Do what you can, suffer when she must, and grow when you are able."

Magical Extractions

2011-07-06T18:13:00.001-05:00

Playing around again. This one is simple and straightforward, just the image of the statue on a background I'd painted and scanned, and then the quote, which is a good one, although for me, it is far easier said than done! Because I have a hard time letting go of what others might think, I sometimes have a hard time allowing myself to be seen.

I used the "magic extractor" tool to pull the statue of the girl out of the original photo. It's too bad we don't have the equivalent of a "magic extractor" tool to pull out our insecurities and such!

Pensive

2011-07-05T06:17:00.000-05:00

I've had a run of creativity lately resulting in maybe not the best stuff I've done but still, it's been fun to let go and experiment and just see what happens. This is one of those Photoshop experiments with an azalea picture and my feet and our dog. Oh, yeah, his right eye is from a photo of me.

Fun times, for sure. More to come, I am sure. But now, it's time to head back to work after the 4 day weekend. My art and my blogging do not pay very well, at least not in the currency that is accepted by the mortgage company and the utility companies and the grocery stores, not to mention the gas stations!

The End of Something Great

2011-06-20T06:56:00.000-05:00

Playing around with using layers in Photoshop Elements. In this one, there is the drawing of the woman, the "head bowed" cemetery angel, added color to the lips and a photograph of one of my eyes with the blue color added, plus a couple of fairly plain background layers I made. I like how it turned out.

Don't Forget to Breathe

2011-06-12T08:46:00.000-05:00

Thinking about why I started this blog in the first place, and asking the question I see a lot of bloggers asking "Is blogging passe`?"

Struggling with how open I want to be here, especially when I feel more often "down" than "up."

Texture Tuesday - Kim Klassen

2011-06-02T21:03:00.000-05:00

I signed up a few weeks ago for Kim's Texture Tuesdays giveaways and I am going to try to participate regularly. I miss blogging and maybe this will give me the incentive to at least post once a week. :)

The texture in this picture (on the flower and as the background) is called yesteryear. I have been playing around, trying to create my own textures but mine are not as subtle as these are.

This was an anniversary "thang" for a friend of mine. The flower is a gloriosa lily, grown by my mother. I don't have much of a green thumb!

Locked Heart

2011-05-21T08:55:00.000-05:00

A locked heart is a problem. Not too sure I have anything more to say about that. Pain is an inevitable part of life. If you are alive, you will get hurt. And if you keep your heart all locked up to "protect" it from being hurt, the next thing you know, it is ruined from being locked up all the time.

I've been sketching a bit. I am not the greatest at doing it but it's enjoyable to me. I usually go into Flickr and choose some poor unsuspecting subject there to sketch. It never ends up looking exactly right but that is okay too.

Dance Reworded :)

2011-05-19T06:32:00.000-05:00

Changed the wording a bit.

Dance

2011-05-16T06:36:00.000-05:00

I sometimes have the problem of trying to dance in the way I think the other person wants me to dance rather than making my own choices. I lose my own music when I do that. . .

(I don't know by the words on the photo that my meaning is clear. I just got up this morning and did this one. I suppose I will have to think about it some more during the day. A revision may be coming.)

Doll Face

2011-05-10T16:57:00.001-05:00

Blogging from my phone! I miss blogging, I want to come back to it. . .

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Mother's Day

2011-05-08T08:48:00.000-05:00

The card I made for my mother for Mother's Day. The photo is one of her when she was a young girl.

More Fake Journal Photos

2011-04-12T22:42:00.001-05:00

In my journal, I have them labeled as different "selves" of mine that have shown up so far. For instance, these represent "The Fixer One", "The Artist One", "The Scared One" and "The Sensual One". "The Wise One" has also appeared up but her picture is different from these paper dolls.

More later. Maybe. :)

International Fake Journal Month

2011-04-09T11:26:00.000-05:00

Not only is April National Poetry Month, it is also International Fake Journal Month! I'm participating with a few adaptations of my own. I've scanned in a few of the things I've done in the journal so far and will post them here, but I am not sure I will offer any specifics about my actual writing. I have found that talking too much about it to others makes it harder for me to just relax and let my imagination flow because then I start thinking of what other people might think (sad, but true). It is a fun and imaginative project. I bought a watercolor Moleskine notebook to use thinking I'd have plenty of pages but now I am beginning to worry that I am going to run out of journal before I run out of story!

Here is a scan of the first piece of "artwork" that has "shown up" in the journal. I like the ghosty image of my arm in the background. I am sure you will see my arm and fingers again if I post more pictures of this journal. It's a simple collage made up of a note I'd written to help myself remember an idea for a "thang" I wanted to do, which I just remembered I have not posted on my blog!

Here it is:

I just love my row of cheap Dollar Tree angels!

I'll be back with more, I am sure. :)

Grace

2011-03-23T04:51:00.000-06:00

I've been experimenting with layers in Photoshop Elements. And I have been neglecting my blog and my blog reading and commenting. I don't know why but it seems like I don't have much to say these days. My blog identity is confused! Anyway, I have more of these and will eventually get around to posting them.

Change

2011-03-09T10:05:00.000-06:00

This is a quote from Hope's blog (http://asongnotscoredforbreathing.blogspot.com/2011/01/that-mysterious-wedding.html), A Song Not Scored for Breathing. I think it is a well-spoken thought and absolutely true. It is an encouraging thought for me. Thanks, Hope!

March

2011-03-03T06:48:00.000-06:00

Ah, March, you and your blustery winds.

What else will you be bringing?

The branches are bare now

but soon will be greening out with new growth.

Now is a time to be grateful.

May we face the new month with gratitude.

Harbinger of Spring

2011-02-27T17:53:00.000-06:00

Every year, it is a surprise to see my redbud trees blooming. It always feels like they have blossomed overnight. For me, there is always something so hopeful about these little pink flowers on those bare branches. Spring really is coming! Better days are around the corner! I feel grateful when I see them.

Anthropomorphic Carvings

2011-02-19T07:44:00.003-06:00

I think this is one of my all-time favorite cemetery statues.

Is that despair or mourning or regret I see?

Someone said they thought she was praying.

I wish I'd had more time to spend with her. She might have had something to say to me, and I to her.

The Bird Quotes CS Lewis

2011-02-05T20:14:00.000-06:00

I went out to take pictures this past weekend and was sitting in the car trying to decide if I was going to get out and walk around looking for pictures. I was at our Civic Center and there were people all around. I am kind of funny about getting out in public with my camera. I am always afraid people will think I think I am this great photographer and I always want them to know that I do not think that at all, that I'm just out there entertaining myself and that sometimes I just see things that need to have their picture taken. Anyway, the bird kept sitting in this tree that was very close to my car, and staring at me, as if he was daring me to get out and take his picture! When I finally decided to commit to getting out of the car the bird moved to a tree that was a little farther away and so I did not get the closeup I was hoping to get.

And the quote, oh it is one I need to hear. That's all I'll say about that.

Of Childhood

2011-01-22T10:57:00.000-06:00

We had frost on the ground this morning and I went out with the camera to see what I could see. Unfortunately, I did not do well at capturing the frost. I did end up with this little thing. Just so you know, it is not ME who will not turn back to see the light! I see light. Most of the time.

I also liked this one. I see remnants of childhood in this photo. My daughter has landed a job teaching kindergarten in a school that is in an underprivileged area. She is replacing a teacher who is out having knee surgery. Most of the children she teaches do not have large backyards with swing sets and play houses. Many come from broken homes. Some do not live with family. Already, these children have very little childhood innocence. It's hard to imagine bright futures for some of them, hard to imagine light reaching them. That is a sad thought. And a reminder that life is not always fair. Every child deserves to be protected and treasured and nurtured.

Healing and Hope

2010-12-31T21:03:00.000-06:00

I decided to go check out the local thrift stores today. At the third one, I saw two Willow Tree angels. They were priced at $1.99 each. I grabbed both of them and finished looking around. When I went to pay, she only charged me $1.99. I guess they were having a year end clearance sale or something.

One was the angel of healing.

The other was the angel of hope.

I'm taking their appearance to me today as a sign of healing and hope for the new year.

Happy New Year!!

Twisted Christmas Greeting

2010-12-25T09:36:00.000-06:00

I was taking a Leisure Learning class and I could not get own pictures off my jump drive so I had to search google for pictures. The class was focused on doing Christmas cards. This was three different images combined and it makes me smile.

Merry Christmas to all! I am off to my parents' house for fun and festivities!

Joy

2010-12-20T22:08:00.000-06:00

I really like the blurred exuberance of the angel in the background of this photo. I got a new lens and was trying it out on my mother's Christmas tree.

Then I went into Photoshop and tried to add some texture to the photo. I am not entirely sure I like the results. I have not been playing around as much in Photoshop as I'd like to be doing.

I got behind on the December prompts. I haven't decided whether I am going to jump back in where they are or try to go back and catch up on what I have missed. Some of the questions are asking for more than I want to share! But they are really good things to help evaluate the coming year, and to consider for the coming year.

Body Integration

2010-12-12T17:16:00.000-06:00

December 12 – Body Integration This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present? (Author: Patrick Reynolds)

I believe the times I have felt most integrated with my body this year were when I was exercising regularly, eating (mostly) right and engrossed in some sort of creative endeavor. For the last few months, I have not been exercising, have not been eating right and have barely been involved in any kind of creative endeavor. I can tell, my body doesn't like it when I do not treat it properly!

Wow, these prompts certainly are giving me plenty of things to think about for the coming year!

Things I Don't Need

2010-12-11T06:41:00.001-06:00

December 11 – 11 Things What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life? (Author: Sam Davidson)

First of all, let me say that I have given myself permission not to follow these prompts exactly so I only have five things! I am sure there are more but I have not thought of them yet. I will continue to think about this theme of what I don't need in 2011.

I don't need any more:

superfluous calories
grief over things that are past and can't be changed
self-pity
need no more clutter
heartache over son's choices/problems

Elimination process:

pay more attention to what I eat, recommit to my health, and life
stay mindful, remember that "NOW" is all I have and God's mercies are new every morning
focus on what I can be grateful for, help others
take one step at a time, work steady and persistently
see # 2

How will elimination change anything?:

I will feel better, I will literally add years to my life
I will have more peace
I be less "weighed down", self-pity is heavy
My whole family will feel better
See # 2

Wisdom

2010-12-10T13:35:00.002-06:00

December 10 – Wisdom
Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?
(Author: Susannah Conway)

All I will say is that I have done a lot of hard growing this past year and I have seen this verse played out in my life several times over:

"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief." (Ecclesiastes 1:18)

Sometimes it really is true that ignorance is bliss.

Perhaps the wisest decision I have made this year has been to keep hobbling on toward life and hope and growth in spite of the pain involved.

And that is all I am going to say about that.

(http://www.reverb10.com/)

Party Time!

2010-12-09T00:50:00.002-06:00

Prompt: Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.
(Author: Shauna Reid)

Ha! Here I have a bit of an ethical dilemma--I'm writing very early on the 12th about an event that happened on December 11th, and I am dating the post for the 9th because that is the date for this prompt.

Social gathering rarely ever knock my socks off. It's not that I am anti-social, it's just that I don't often enjoy social gatherings. But tonight we had our annual church Christmas party and it was full of cheesy good fun: gumbo, cookie contest, talent show, magic man, hayride and bonfire. How much better could than that could it get? The gumbo was excellent, the cookies were delicious. The talent was spotty, the magic man was interesting. The hayride was cold and the bonfire was warm. My oldest daughter came and left at the end of the talent show but before they announced the winners of the cookie contest. She was disappointed because she had missed the hayride earlier. After they announced the cookie contest winners, they announced there would be another hayride. I called my daughter to tell her (she only lives about a mile up the road from the church) and my husband asked about whether she would have time to come back and ride. They said yes and she got there and we took off. When we returned we went and stood by the fire a little while to warm ourselves and then we headed home. I am assuming a fun time was had by all!

Beautifully Different

2010-12-08T20:06:00.003-06:00

December 8 – Beautifully Different.
Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.
(Author: Karen Walrond)

I really am a bit eccentric. But then again, aren't we all? My dry sense of humor seems to "light people up."

I could make a bullet list of ways I am different, but I'm not really that different when you get right down to it. Then again, maybe I am!

Here are a few photos from a cemetery I visited this weekend. I think maybe my skewed perspective is one of the things that often makes me different. . .

I love the texture on this post topper.

There was a fence around the small grave and this was on the gate. There are many beautifully different things to see in cemeteries.

These apples were on the grave of a young child. I wonder who left the apples there, and why. This cemetery is in a rural area, near a Baptist church. There were many graves that had things left on them, little figurines and mementos for the dead. I wonder if they put new apples every once in a while. The two on top seem to have no damage at all while the ones on the bottom have lost their lustre. I can identify with them!

This headstone has a pretty little picture at the top with the words joy and love inscribed. I try to see joy and love and I try to spread it too.

I also try to find the bright spot in gray areas. And I try to be the bright spot for other people. We never know what burdens other people are carrying.

Community

2010-12-07T20:05:00.000-06:00

Prompt: Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?
(Author: Cali Harris)

Another difficult (for me) prompt! I have discovered a sense of community at my church and, in some ways, at work. I also feel a sense on community with some of my blogging buddies.

I wish I could find community around here in the form of some sort of art or photography or writing group. That has proven to be a hard task.

Making Things

2010-12-06T20:05:00.001-06:00

December 6 – Make.
What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?
(Author: Gretchen Rubin)

I have not made anything in quite sometime. There are some things I want to make, and yes, I need to clear some time for it. I'm quite annoyed at myself for not doing so.

On second thought, I've been making pictures. I just have not been doing much with them.

http://www.reverb10.com/

Letting Go

2010-12-05T22:34:00.004-06:00

December 5 – Let Go.
What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?
(Author: Alice Bradley)

Dang, people. This one could be a little on the personal side! There is a dream that I have fairly well let go of. I don't want to talk about that one. There is the ongoing struggle of letting go of my adult son while still loving him in spite of his problems. Don't want to air that one out here either.

I've reluctantly let go of my middle school youth group leader just a month or so ago. We connected back up on Facebook after many years of not being in touch. We chatted one night for a little while and he had somewhere he had to be so he asked for me to send him my phone number so he could call. I sent it to him and we exchanged a couple of short emails. One evening I got a call from a number I did not recognize and I thought it might be him. But I was nervous about talking to him again after so many years and it was not exactly a good time for me to talk. I let it go over to voicemail thinking he would leave a message and I would call him back after I'd heard his voice again and had gotten my courage up. He didn't leave a message.

A few days after that his grown daughter posted a note on Facebook that he had had a massive heart attack and was in the hospital. He stayed in a coma for several days and finally died. He was only 62 years old.

And now I can't call him back. And how I wished I'd just answered the damned phone.

Wonder

2010-12-04T21:26:00.000-06:00

December 4 – Wonder.
How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?
(Author: Jeffrey Davis)

This past year I mostly cultivated a sense of wonder by getting outside with the camera. On this particular Spring day I was in a place I consider least likely to inspire a sense of wonder - my backyard. On this day, bare branches and flowering weeds were enough to cultivate a sense of wonder for me.

These are some of the things that I saw:

(http://www.reverb10.com/)

Most Alive

2010-12-03T23:54:00.026-06:00

December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)

I searched my journal of the past year for evidence of a moment when I felt most alive. Mostly what I found were moments of heartache and pain (note to self: take time to write about the "good" things too).

I found this place by accident as I was driving around looking for a place to take pictures. It is in a secluded area and is a peaceful place to sit and reflect. Emotionally, I was in a rough spot and needed a bit of time to myself. I've been meaning to go back and sit quietly with my journal but I just have not made the time to go again. The following comments are notes written in my journal on a cold day last February and I really did feel most alive.

I am sitting in the Chapel of the Holy Spirit in Big Lake, or Grand Lake. I get them mixed up. I've been taking pictures and my fingers are frozen. Someone called and I missed it. I am distracted by that, hoping she did not expect something from me that I do not have in me to give. And I'm worrying about what might be wrong.

I was going to sit here and pray and listen but now I am worried again and can't hear anything in me but my own voice and maybe the voice of the person who called earlier.

The chimes were silent for a moment and I heard a bird. Now both the chimes and the bird are going. The wind blows the corner of this page. A car goes by, gears shifting as he picks up speed. There is water here too. The wind ripples across the surface and the sun sparkles, points of light on the dark water. I think I heard a frog croaking just now.

(http://www.reverb10.com/)

One or Two Shortcomings

2010-12-02T21:26:00.000-06:00

December 2 - Writing.
What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?
(Author: Leo Babauta)

This one is a no-brainer. I complain that I have no time and yet I waste time on the internet. I get sucked into Facebook, checking email, and general unfocused web wanderings. I can't (or won't) totally eliminate internet time but I can limit and structure my time better. Will I? I don't rightly know. I'd like to. Alas, I also suffer from a severe lack of discipline.

Encapsulating 2010, Naming 2011

2010-12-01T17:10:00.000-06:00

You know, there are all kinds of things out there to help people post regularly on their blogs, projects to do and prompts to inspire. Reverb 10 is one of those things. It happens all during the month of December. Every day there is a different prompt to write about that helps you review 2010 and look forward to 2011. I think this might be just the thing for me. I'm going to TRY to participate on a regular basis.

This is the very first prompt:

December 1 One Word.
Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? (Author: Gwen Bell)

I think I have to say that my one word to encapsulate 2010 would be reversal. My son had a reversal and was going downhill at the beginning of this year. He has now experienced another reversal and seems to be getting himself back on track.

I had a reversal in dealing with the stress of his fall, and have now experience another reversal where I have had a good talk with myself about separating me from my son. It's not always an easy thing for me to do.

My oldest daughter had a reversal and went back to school for a teaching certificate so she could possibly find a real job after being in school for so long. Don't know yet how that is going to work out. The economy of course had its own reversal and as everybody knows, that has affected the job market for this latest crop of graduates.

Last year at this time, I was managing my eating habits very well and losing weight. I have since had a reversal and have gained several pounds and am not doing well at all at managing my eating habits. I'm not exercising like I should be either. I hope to reverse that trend and get back on track, but this is a horrible time of year to have to do that!

A year from now, I'd like to be able to encapsulate 2011 with the word lagniappe. It's a Cajun French word that means "a little something extra". I often feel on the edge of the pit in so many ways and sometimes I feel like there is just not "enough" for me. I'm not greedy. I don't want a lot, just a little extra space between me and the edge of the pit.

The thought occurs to me that if I will stretch myself and give a little extra effort, a little extra attention, just a little extra discipline to the problem areas of my life (and to the undeveloped areas), I will have lagniappe in my life.

Day 30!

2010-11-30T20:42:00.000-06:00

Well, I ended up missing two days (or not fixing two days!) in my posting. Perfection is way over-rated! I can't believe tomorrow is already December 1st. This year has flown by.

Today was the last day of registration until right before the semester starts in January. We had a few uptight students who had not seen their advisers and were trying to get in to see them. They have to get a PIN to register, it is our way of making sure they see their advisers each semester. We will have a more desperate crowd in January when late registration opens back up. Everything usually always works out though.

Except I sometimes end up looking about as wary as this cat when a students come through the door wanting to know if they can get a seat permit into a class that is already wall-to-wall students. What I particularly don't like is when they start giving me reasons why I should permit them into the class. It doesn't matter how good their reason is, if there is no room for them, there is no room. And if there IS room, I will give them a seat permit with or without a good reason!

Day 28!

2010-11-28T21:44:00.000-06:00

I am glad to know I still have people stopping by! Of course, now that puts the pressure on me to try and make it worth your while to stop by! But I don't have anything much to say tonight. I kind of wish I had a few more days off to hang around the house and maybe get some things done. Christmas holidays will be here before I know it and then I will have an abundance of time at home!

Observation

2010-11-27T20:05:00.011-06:00

I was goofing off this afternoon, reading old posts and realized that six years ago today, on this very day, I posted my first post on this blog! Hard to believe it has been that long ago. Happy Blogaversary to me!

I really was poking around trying to figure out what it was that I used to write about and trying to figure out how to get back into the habit of blogging regularly. I have been doing the NaBloPoMo (every day except Thanksgiving) but those posts have been more posts for quantity rather than quality.

I took a Leisure Learning class a couple of weeks ago that was supposed to be about how to create greeting cards in Photoshop. I really did not learn anything new and the class was a bit disappointing. My jump drive that had my photos on it did not open on the computer I was using so I was forced to find a couple of gorgeous images to combine and this was the result of my being bored in class. Since I observed this is my sixth blogaversary, I thought it an appropriate image to include.

At the beginning of the class, when the instructor discovered the computer would not let her have the images off HER jump drive, she had us pull Christmas images from Google to use. Nary a word was said about copyright issues. I did not approve of that sin of omission. I was a bit wary of posting these images but I think I have distorted them enough that they are not easily recognizable (and I am not even sure about the ethics of saying it is okay if you distort the images beyond recognition). Anyway, she had us get a Christmas hat, a Christmas baby or animal picture, and a Christmas stocking. Well, when I got bored and realized I was not going to learn much more than I already had, and I'd finished playing with the traditional Christmas card motifs, I decided to do something a little bit different. Actually, I did not decide that, it just happened.

Here is the result:

I really love the pig with the Christmas hat! Sorry both images are so small. I am not sure what I did to them.

Coffee Time

2010-11-26T16:20:00.001-06:00

My favorite home coffee mug. I'm not sure how well the color will show up- it's a lovely cobalt blue. Makes me think of the old Milk of Magnesia bottles.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Please Don't Pop the Bubbles

2010-11-24T21:39:00.000-06:00

Bubbles

2010-11-23T22:06:00.001-06:00

It was forty-five minutes until time to go this afternoon, the last day of work till Monday after Thanksgiving. One of the professors pulled out her bottle of bubbles and I tried to get pictures. It is harder than it looks! But totally fun!

Yes, the picture that is dated Monday, November 22 was actually taken this afternoon. "Oh the web we weave when at first we choose to deceive"--oh the web we weave when we try to commit to posting every single day in November, and the goal becomes more important than being honest! Nah, I am being totally upfront about my backdating one or two (well, okay, I think three) posts so that it would look like I have faithfully posted every single day.

I'll be back tomorrow. For reals.

Don't Pop My Bubble!

2010-11-22T21:50:00.000-06:00

THNIK!

2010-11-21T20:22:00.000-06:00

Just finished a long hour trying to figure out why I could not get connected to the internet (when the problem first presented itself, I took a nap to see if it the problem would fix itself). I restarted and ran a virus scan, then tried to connect to the network and discovered I had inadvertently hit the button that turns off the wireless capabilities of the laptop. Sigh.

"All these tools of tech waste our time if we're not careful." Bill Gates

(Misspelling of think is intentional, in case you were wondering!)

My Grandfather

2010-11-20T22:56:00.000-06:00

My grandfather and his faithful dog Trip. He was born April 1, 1901 and died in December of 1984. He was a trip, quite the character who never met a stranger.

I've Been Thinking

2010-11-19T17:06:00.001-06:00

(and it doesn't hurt!)

I'm thinking about some kind of artsy-fartsy project thing I could do for next year. Something where I did something once a week, not high quality, but just do something. I can't quite decide on a theme.

I've also been thinking about setting up a couple of theme days for the blog as a way of helping myself to post more regularly.

We shall see. . .

Pathways

2010-11-18T20:43:00.001-06:00

They've been working for months on the sidewalks around the quad area outside our building. Last Friday was the official opening. Now they have closed off the other door we've been using to enter our building while the sidewalk construction was going on. I am confused! But my paths are lovely...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Trying Something

2010-11-17T20:46:00.000-06:00

I missed Wednesday. I'm going to see if I can back date the post from my phone. No, I can't back date from my phone! Had to come to my laptop and do it. It is sort of cheating, I know, but I'm doing it anyway. If I don't I might just give up and not finish out the month.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Fall Color

2010-11-16T08:21:00.001-06:00

I believe this leaf is from a Bradford Pear tree. It makes beautiful flowers in Spring and gorgeous color leaves in the fall but alas, makes no pears at all!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

One of These Days

2010-11-15T23:44:00.000-06:00

One of these days, I am going to get my groove back...

Sunday in Five Five Word Sentences

2010-11-14T19:10:00.000-06:00

Did not feel well today.

Did not get out much.

Didn't even go to church.

Hope to feel better tomorrow.

Not too sure I will.

Posting Dribble Daily :)

2010-11-13T23:26:00.000-06:00

I am keeping up with my quantity but I am not doing that well with quality!

Today I attended a Leisure Learning class on making greeting cards in Photoshop. I suspect I knew as much as the instructor knew about PS, though we might have known different things! I did learn, or I got reminded, of a few new things. I am not at all sure I got my money's worth.

This afternoon, I became aware that I was not feeling too well. I took Tylenol and Mucinex and slept most of the evening. I think I am ready to go back to bed now.

G'night!

It's the Little Things...

2010-11-12T07:59:00.001-06:00

The Things We Hold in Our Hearts

2010-11-11T05:00:00.002-06:00

I'm Real, Lady

2010-11-10T20:51:00.000-06:00

When I took pictures this past weekend, I saw this gator down below the boardwalk. A man had told me where to look for him, otherwise I would have missed seeing him. But in looking at him, he was so still and his mouth looked so plasticy pink I thought he was fake. And his mouth was open the whole time. I walked all the way to the other end of the boardwalk laughing about the guy who got fooled by the fake gator.

However, when I came back by the gator, he had changed position! I STILL thought he was fake! I thought he was a fake animated gator. Look at that cheesy grin. Would you think that gator was real? I stood there for quite a while looking at him. A few times he would slowly open and close his mouth (as if the movement were timed). Finally he lifted his back leg and started scratching at his belly. That's when I decided he was indeed real. Moments later he moved up into the bushes a little more and stared at me with his beady eyes as if to say, "There, are you convinced now that I am real?"

Ooops!

2010-11-09T23:10:00.000-06:00

I'm just a little late with Tuesday's post, ahem. I thought of it last night when I went to bed. It was nearly eleven so I could have hopped up and posted something really quick but I didn't. And today I don't have much to say. I'll post a couple of "fall color" pictures taken at the Texas Welcome Center.

Where Are You Headed?

2010-11-08T21:50:00.000-06:00

I'm not real sure at the moment exactly where I am headed. What I know is that it is important to note what I see and to keep on moving.

Louisiana Welcome Center

2010-11-07T08:04:00.000-06:00

Hubby and I motored over to Beaumont, TX yesterday to wander around Barnes and Noble. On the way over and back, we stopped at the Texas and Louisiana Welcome Centers for me to take pictures. It was a great day to be outside in the fresh air.

It was a bit difficult for me to concentrate on taking photos with this warning in my head! I was a bit disappointed because the boardwalk that goes into the swamp was still closed from Hurricane Ike that came through back in September of 2008 (according to Wikipedia, 112 people were killed in that storm). I was able to walk alongside the water to get a few pictures.

I love seeing the reflections of the trees in the water. There were several fish jumping in the water. Believe it or not, I did get two pictures of that but one was too far away to be a good photo. The second one was closer but the fish was right at the edge of the photo. I eventually gave up and entertained myself by taking pictures of the water circles that were left after the fish jumped!

Such a tranquil scene, if one can forget the warning about snakes.

This rock shape reminded me a dog's head coming out of the water. It also has the look of an alligator, but the "ears" on the back ruin that illusion for me. I am fairly certain this was just a chunk of concrete that was coincidentally formed this way and not an artist's deliberate work.

There was something about the juxtaposition of the rocks and the water and the flowers that pleased me about this sight.

This is probably my favorite image of the day (from the Louisiana side). It is a cypress "knee", a part of the root of a cypress tree. When I was a child, I had an aunt and uncle who had in their house a couple of cypress knees that were polished and varnished. I was always enamored of those things, loved the gnarly beauty of them.

There is so much beauty all around us if we would only stop and notice.