Surreality?

Lately it seems as if I am a spectator of my life. As if I am standing to the side watching someone who looks like me, sounds like me go through the day doing the things as me. I think I am stuck somewhere between surreal and reality.

Update

Some background:

The young man below is not related to us by blood, but could not be more ours if one of mine had birthed him. He has been a part of our lives pretty much since the day he was born. He belongs to a friend of our daughters. It is a convoluted and confusing story, but one that has our middle born giving up her life to pretty much raise this young man. We are Mam Maw and Pap Paw.

We delight in his joys and agonize in his hurts. We have supported him emotionally, physically (including cutting a tightly wrapped hair from his penis...but that is another story) and at times financially. He has been exposed to the finer things because of our daughter and us. I often wonder where he would be without our entire family and then shudder and quit thinking about it.

His mother tries I guess. She is not a stupid woman. She is a hard worker, never without a job. Young...gave birth at 18 and single. Father was not involved until this boy was two. He is a piece of work...though I guess he tries too. I try to give them both the benefit of the doubt but today nearly put me over the edge.

As you can see in the picture and post below there was an accident involving this young man's eye. Not serious...but concerning enough to need medical care and follow-up treatment. I called this morning to make sure the follow-up treatment took place...gut feeling told me something was out of place. No answer on the phone...shit.

Mom finally calls me back and starts immediately telling me she could not take him to the doctor for his recheck due to lack of insurance. Dad has failed to keep the policy active and she can't afford to pay the cost of the visit in cash. Never mind that this is his EYE...his vision. What is the price of seeing going for these days?

I thought I was going to blow a gasket. I wanted to start screaming. I didn't. I just told her I would figure out something and call her back. It is now 11:00am on Sunday morning. I called my optometrist's office and leave a message on his emergency number. He calls me back.

I try to explain as best I can what is going on. I ask him if he would please do me a huge favor and look at his eye for me. I am nearly in tears by this time I am so angry and frustrated at this mother's lack of concern for her child and his vision.

I HAVE THE BEST EYE DOCTOR IN THE WORLD!!! He was more than willing to look at his eye.

When I called mom to tell her to have the boy ready to go, this is what she said: "Is he an optometrist or an ophthalmologist?" If she had been standing in front of me at this point I might have grabbed her by the throat and choked the life out of her as not more than 10 minutes earlier she didn't care if he saw a doctor or not! OMG!

Anyway...enough of the terrible mother rant. Bottom line...his eye is completely healed. His vision is intact and fine. And get this...the doctor charged us....NOTHING!

Again.....I HAVE THE BEST EYE DOCTOR IN THE WORLD!!! Dr. Jeffrey Cappelle you are the best!

Boys Will Be Boys

And accidents happen! A buddy's finger in the eye resulted in a scratched cornea. Fortunately eyes heal quickly. And after a visit to the eye doctor this morning hopefully he will be seeing just fine!

Notice the missing bottom tooth? His tooth fairy left him $5.00...talk about inflation!

WTH?

Click to enlarge (is he missing a tooth?)

Sooo...I went to a quilt show today and this was part of the exhibit. I apologize for the quality ofthe photo but I had to sneak to take it as no photos were permitted, (I could not help myself).

The artist explains she was compelled to create this work of art due to her discontent with the current state of this nation's politics. She followed that with a quote by Barack Obama. I am sorry I do not have it verbatim but it was in regard to the controversy surrounding the flag pin ordeal.

I just didn't get it. Obama is Jesus? Jesus is an American? God bless Obama? Jesus likes flags? Jesus needs a good tailor?

UH?

Ever wonder if the reflection is the reality and the reality is the reflection?

A Transformative Moment

I came about this sort of meme through Tessa, who I adore for her writing and her painting. Tessa links back to Steven of Golden Fish who asks bloggers to write about a transformative moment in their life. A little late on the draw here...but what the hell.

Transformative: to change in form, appearance, or structure...to change in condition, nature, or character.

I found myself in a land that was familiar, but not home. I would walk out of the door in the morning, surrounded by land masses that embodied 'purple mountains majesty' and wonder if those who lived here saw the beauty I did? Or did they just go about the day without noticing the gift mother nature lay at their feet.

My early morning journey took me to the sterile halls of the local hospital. Where the smell assaults your senses before you even enter the building. As I walked through those halls I would to think to myself, "I am much to accustomed to this." For I had taken this walk daily for the last 10 days. The same corridors, to the same room I had I spent 15 hours a day. To the bedside of the strongest woman in my life: My mother.

Unconscious and attached to a machine that forced air into her lungs. IV's in both arms. Catheters, tubes, monitors...technology keeping her alive. And every morning as I entered the room my first thought, "how did this happen?" There were no answers...only questions. All that technology and nobody could tell me why.

That particular day would be different from all the other days I had made the journey. I would sit beside her bed, talk to her, comb her hair and share with her the news of the day. "Mom, it snowed five inches in the desert, can you believe it!" All the while wishing this day was not happening.

Decisions...I was asked to make them for 10 days. Decisions that made the difference between life and death. Today I was not the one making the decision. My mother had made the decision years ago when she signed a simple document. I was asked if I had it, "yes." Though not asked to produce it. And the process began.

I stood there and wondered how my heart could ache so desperately and still continue to beat. How could my lungs continue to draw air as the machine discontinued to force air into her's? I held her hand and whispered words of comfort to her...what did I say? I don't remember now. I just knew I needed her to know it was okay to leave me, even as my entire body was screaming for her stop this nonsense and get up!

She didn't get up. She left me quietly in less than 10 minutes. Her body so ravaged by a disease that had no name. And I alone standing there to try and make sense of life without a mother. My mother...the one I looked like. The one whose strength and personality I bore. My mother...gone from me forever.

She was 61 years old. Too young to die. I was 36... too young to be without my mom. But life goes on doesn't it. And it was for me to decide how I was going to go about mine. A transformative moment? Without a doubt.

If you averaged the life of both my parents you would end up with 60 living years. Didn't look so good for me. A wake up call was had.

Before mom fell ill, I was about 30 pounds over weight. I didn't exercise and wasn't in the best of shape. I now found myself about 10 pounds lighter. The stress and starve diet does wonders. I made the decision to lose the rest and become as healthy as I could be.

I completely changed my eating habits and began to exercise regularly. I transformed my entire body in about six months. I went from a size 12 to a size two and felt better than I had in years. The hubby lost 20 just eating the good food I was cooking! I wanted live a long life and grow old and getting healthy was the beginning.

I also transformed my mind. Things that were important weren't so important anymore. My mom didn't enjoy her life. She worked hard nearly till the day she died. I was not going to be her. I made a pact to do the things I wanted to do. Never to put off those things. Do it now, for tomorrow may never come. All those cliche's...life is too short, live today etc. They are true. Life can change in an instant.

I am my mother's daughter in way's that extend beyond birth. I emulate her in my daily life, but I will not leave this earth with life undone and a heart that is heavy. I will live to be old and I just might wear lots of purple!

Transformative: to change in form, appearance, or structure...to change in condition, nature, or character. I did both!

Tell us about your transformative moment.

Symbols

Just when you need it the most they appear. Those little things that give you the strength to carry on the fight.

I looked up and there he was, wings spread wide. White head reflecting the evening sun. He was gliding on the currents of the air effortlessly above the body of water that held his dinner. Perhaps he wasn't hungry or maybe just content to perch for a time. In a treetop, barren and white barked he landed. A bald eagle...the American symbol of freedom and strength.

I know it will all be okay now.

Image provided through google

Dust in the Wind

Rage, bluster, threats, stomping feet.

Rambling, blaming, projecting.

Yelling, cussing, hurling accusations.

Rationalizing, self pity, emotional hijacking.

But when do you take responsibility for the lies?

Like the song said,

Same old song

Just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do

Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Defend that!

Precious

Waiting on my seahorse

What a Face!

Yep, that's my girl!

For more funny, silly faces click on the badge and visit I Heart Faces

Now That Really Is...

A shitty thing to do.....................

http://www.daytondailynews.com/news/crime/call-for-possible-dead-body-a-foolish-prank-police-say-240498.html

You Won't Believe What I Saw Today

It was the most amazing thing ever! I apologize for the quality of the pictures, but I was literally doing a 'hail Mary' with my camera over the crowd.

Do you see the hoof? That is her face still inside the amniotic sack.

Push! Mama Push!

That's a girl...one more

B pronounced it a girl because of her long eyelashes (he was right).

Mama was on her feet cleaning her baby right away.

Welcome little one

A Happy Ending

As I watch these women walk off the plane after some 140 days as prisoners in North Korea I have tears falling from my eyes.

All politics aside...a mother holds her baby girl for the first time in five months. A sister caresses the face of her sibling as if she thought she would never feel that soft skin again. Parents hold their grown daughters as if they were young girls once again.

I never thought I would say these words: You done good Bill!

Summer On The Lake

This is my lake.

A place I go to find myself when I am lost.

A place to share with those I love and cherish.

A place of joy, peace, and Mother Nature at her finest.

Welcome my friends...

Come and share what I so enjoy

A day on the Lake begins with the sun cresting the horizon

Fire burns on the water

Orange fills the sky

Warming the atmosphere for adventures

There are fish to be caught

Boats to be paddled

Family and friends gather

To share the fun

Places to explore
Creatures to see

Watch carefully

You never know what you will see

The day ends

The sun sets in the western sky

Hues of orange once again fill the horizon

We have come full circle

It will all begin again tomorrow

You all come back now...ya hear!

Click on the badge and see what others have done with their summers

Home

It is nothing fancy. A cape cod situated on a street in a neighborhood that is as non-descript as the house. Vinyl sided, a light grey with black shutters...a green front door (matched the interior at one time). There are a few flowers in the front yard, some shrubbery...neglected lately as priorities have changed.

The interior is neatly kept most of the time. At least as neatly as can be with three dogs and a cat that shed like cotton weed in the spring. It isn't a designer showcase. Some decent art on the walls. Updated decor. It has been describe as 'homey' by the teenagers that used to congregate there. A better compliment I couldn't ask for.

Walls, floors, ceilings, windows...those things that make a shelter. But it is my home. It is the place I raised my children. But more than that...it is the place that my parents raised me. I have lived there all but five years of my life. That accounts for 43 years. That accounts for my life.

My home is as much a part of me as is my heart. The plaster that form the walls, encapsulates the days of my youth. The walls speak to me of memories. Memories of those who are no longer part of my life. My mother, father, and two brothers.

I see them all. I see them as I did when I was a young girl, in the good times, in the bad times. I hear the sound of their voices. Singing, laughing, crying, yelling. I can still see them sitting in their places. We all had our places. Michael at the register on the cold winter mornings. Mom on the right side of the sofa, Dad on the left, the dog in the middle of them. Patrick always in his room. And me...curled up against mom. I was a mama's girl.

My home...it became mine some 24 years ago. Mine......children conceived here. A second generation raised here. The same joy. The same struggles. Three children once again fighting the same battles. Full circle.

Home. It is where the heart is. But more than that. It is where the soul is.

Tell Shutter Sisters about your home

Hey Asshole!

Large Rat

Defenseless Fawn

Apparently George Forbes, President of the local Cleveland are NAACP, doesn't know the difference and is incensed that Dorothy Richardson has been charged with cruelty to animals for beating a speckled back baby to death with a tool used for digging dirt.

Of course, the only reason she has been charged, are you ready, hold on to you head folks, get the duct tape out, sit down and open that Bud Light, I feel a beer summit on the horizon....drum roll please:

SHE IS BLACK!!!!!

I don't care what color she is...lock her ass up. I would have been happier if she would have shot the poor thing. Then at least it wouldn't have been screaming as she bludgeoned it to death with a large garden spade (no racial pun intended).

Wonder what Obama has to say about this?

Celebrate!

This young man rode his chrome sting ray up our driveway when he was 14 years old. He was wearing a black trench coat and his hair was grown past his shoulders. Our son introduced him to us and he has been family ever since. We have now loved him half of his life.

Several years ago he brought home a lovely young woman.

She grew to love him and we to love her. She too became family.

This past weekend we celebrated their wedding. And it was a grand celebration. Our son was the best man and our daughter-in-law a bridesmaid and right hand in the coordinating. We were all there for the beginning of their adventure and now into what will be a life full of rock and roll fun!

Congratulations Greg and Christine!

what are you celebrating?

Amen!

"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom. What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else. When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."

Adrian Rogers

He Is A LIAR Part II

http://www.heritage.org/2009/07/21/morning-bell-obama-admits-hes-not-familiar-with-house-bill/

Read it....it just gets more and more unbelievable.

courtesy of Drudge

The Twilight Zone

The conversation in her comment section went like this:

Lucy: "While I too am opposed to Obama's plan and have written about it on my blog as well, I take offense to this line in your post:"unintelligible, surly GED graduates" (Blogger's name omitted), I am one of those GED graduates you refer to. I'll admit that sometimes I am surly...but I am rarely unintelligible. I don't get your need to be snarky. With that line, you put down an entire population of people who made an effort to right a wrong and continue their education when whatever reason or circumstance stopped them previously. Again, snarky isn't necessary...its just mean. But if the shoe fits......:

Blogger's Response: "Lucy - Not every high school (or for that matter, college) graduate is honestly interested in continuing their education after they get a diploma and I daresay not every GED graduate is either. Props to you for doing so, but Lucy, have you ever been to the DMV? Seriously? I'm surprised some of them managed to finish GRADE school.

Lucy: "You missed the point...but I am not surprised."

Blogger's Response: Lucy - This is so funny. You come on my blog, get offended by something that wasn't even directed at you, and then call ME names. Do you work in the DMV? Did I say "all GED graduates"? No? Then I was clearly not referring to you.You seem to come here just itching for something to get your panties in a twist over. Something that you can relate to your own life so you can feel righteous when you declare, "I am so offended! Me me me!" People who act this way usually 1.) are slightly paranoid, 2.) have no sense of humor, or 3.) are completely self-centered. So, guess what? My blog is not about you or your own personal triumph over hardship. Sorry.

I refuse to continue this pointless exchange on this person's blog, as she only continues to miss the point. The point is this: Why does she feel the need to put down, name call, demoralize, bully etc. people on her blog? This is not the first time I have seen her do this and in fact I removed her from my blog roll for just that reason. She is not interested in constructive dialog when opinions differ. It is only hers that is important. That is fine...it is her blog. But why the need to be downright mean?

And she is right...why do I go there? Good question. I just had hoped for change. Oh shit...I really should give that up!

It seems to me she gets some kind of personal satisfaction from putting people down. I don't know...must be a self esteem issue. Not to be guilty of generalizing, just wonder when you have been disabled most of your life if it messes with your head.

I wouldn't know...I am just one of those lowly GED graduates who totes a gun (cuse I'm paranoid), throws down a few PBRs before breakfast, and wears a wife beater with my best camo BDUs. But damn that gravy stain...anyone got a stain stick? After all, it is all about me!

Do You Know This Person?

Robs from the rich...

Gives to the poor...

Throws like a girl...

He is a LIAR

I could not believe what I was hearing so I did the research myself.

Obama is a LIAR and a narcissist. If you believe he has your best interests at heart with his health care plan, you are an idiot. His constant reassurances that 'there will be choice' for those of us who don't want any part of a socialist medical system are bullshit.

If you don't have time to read the entire 1018 page document (as most of our Representatives surely did not) this is all you need to know:

"Protecting The Choice To Keep Current Coverage," the "Limitation On New Enrollment" section of the bill clearly states:
"Except as provided in this paragraph, the individual health insurance issuer offering such coverage does not enroll any individual in such coverage if the first effective date of coverage is on or after the first day" of the year the legislation becomes law. (http://www.ibdeditorials.com/IBDArticles.aspx?id=332548165656854)

In other words, if you need insurance after the law takes affect...you're fucked! Your only choice is Obama's policy.


It is all outlined on page 16 of the document. You would think he would have buried it deeper.

It makes me sick to my stomach. I don't think I have ever been this afraid for myself, my family and my country. In the words of a dear friend:

"It is time to start the revolution"

Ghosts

I had a comment appear on a post from this blogger who calls himself Willie Dueright. I didn't recognize the name so I clicked on the profile to see who this stranger might be.

I was immediately struck by a sense of familiarity. The kind that stirs your gut. Are you who I think you are? Am I that friend you wrote about? Is it you, my friend who drops the one line in my email box every year. In fact, it was just yesterday I read it again...for I am another year older.

I am taken back some 30 plus years...yes it has been that long. To a time of teenage dreams and adventures both exciting and fraught with pain. We had fun...so much fun. Do you remember the time we went horseback riding and were so sore we could barely move the next day?

But then there are other memories both of us would rather not relive. Then again...didn't those things make us who were are today? And I think it is okay for us both. There have been struggles yes...but mostly life has been good for us both.

I am glad you are writing...write more. Write from the heart. You are and always were so expressive. Tell us your story...you who beat death twice. I am anxiously waiting.

If you remember, I was always one of your biggest fans.

and if it is not you...ignore the rantings of a madwoman

Mother Nature's Palate

I haven't played in ages and when HSMSHS decided to do a week long theme I knew I wouldn't be playing until the end of the week. The theme was color in nature. So I dug through my old shots and found some of my favorite highlights of Mother Nature in action.

click to enlarge

Dog Watching the Sky on Friday?

Even Henry enjoys watching the sun set on the point of the islands of his lake.
Visit other beautiful skies by clicking on the badge above

While Creeking One Day/Rocks

Addendum July 18th: When I saw that the photo hunter theme was 'rock', well......

One of my favorite things to do when I was a child was 'creeking'. I lived in an area that had several small tributaries, shallow and teaming with life. We would put on our old tennies and spend hours stomping through the crystal clear water, over turning rocks to see what Mother Nature had hidden beneath. There were creatures in abundance for us to find...fish, crabs, salamanders, snakes.

Those days spent with my feet immersed and my hands exploring all things slimy were passed on to my children, as I still live in the same house. Though I will say it was my husband who spent most of the time in the shallows with them, for he too had many hours of experience in the creeks. I married a neighborhood boy.

And now we pass the tradition on to a third generation. A freckled face lad who came to know the secrets of the creeks at a young age. Papa introduced him to the rocky bottom shallows and its hidden secrets when he was about three and he has been captivated ever since.

But it was me who took him on this particular day...the day we found a treasure of a different sort. Left by whom...I don't know. But we took our picture and left it for someone else to find.

"In Vino Veritas (Truth in Wine)"

Jason Evans of The Clarity of Night is sponsoring a short fiction contest. The contest is based on the theme "In Vino Veritas (Truth in Wine)" and this photo.

I do not consider myself much of a creative writer, but was intrigued and thought 'what the hell'. After some long hours and many drafts here is what I submitted:

Crystal Melody

By Lucy Logic

The sound of his voice resonated in her mind. High pitched and screaming, not unlike that of wet fingers rotating around the rim of a crystal wine glass. In fact, wasn’t that what she was doing when the words began to spill from his lips: mindlessly tracing her finger atop the edge of her glass?

“Beth, this isn’t fair to anyone. I’ve met someone else.”

She lost his words in the music of the crystal, in the color of the wine. Refusing to speak or look at him. She became desperate to play her tune. Round and round her finger went. Deeper into the depths of the blood red liquid went her mind.

“Beth, you have to say something!”

She did not respond. She could not respond. For the edge of this glass, cold and full of melody, was where sanity and reason resided. The rhythm of her finger holding her precariously to that edge.

“Beth!”

Lost in the melody, she did not lift her head to watch him walk out the door.

As the latch locked in place, he couldn’t help but have heard the crashing of the crystal as it shattered against the door behind him.

Sanity and reason trickled crimson down the wall. They pooled on the floor amongst the splintered pieces of her broken life.

Round and round her finger continued, tracing the edge of a glass that was no longer there.

Head over to Jason's to see what other incredible writers have submitted...I pale against their talent.

It's Friday

And that means it is time for a beautiful sky! I never get tired of taking pictures of the lake sky. I am presented with some amazing vista views both morning and evening. I hate to admit it though lately I have been sleeping in and not seeing the sun rise.

Here comes the sun and I say...its more than alright!

J-E-L-L-O

Do you remember that five note jingle? We all sang it at one time or another and we have all eaten this wiggly dessert in one form or another. I find it hard to believe there is a person out there who has escaped a molded jello dessert during a family holiday meal.

Jello...some of my favorite memories are centered around it. I remember in fifth grade we had an assignment that encompassed teaching the class a lesson on how to do a task from beginning to end. I taught my classmates how to make orange jello.

Jello...I still make a dish at Thanksgiving and Christmas that my mother always made...grated carrots and fresh oranges gelled in orange jello. Ummmmmmm. I make it, no one eats it. It's a tradition I can't let go of.

Then there are those jello shots. I have not had the pleasure but my husband has. His fortieth birthday. He was the first to leave...I am told they 'sneak' up on you.

I filled many a trash can with empty jello boxes when my kids were little, filling their fists with jello jigglers. Do you moms remember those? I made them with juice instead of water making myself believe I was giving them a more healthy snack!

Jello wrestling? Also don't have first hand experience with this. Sounds sticky...but I am sure there is a You-tube of it out there if you are really interested in seeing it.

Oh the things you can do with Jello. Anyone else care to share some memories?

Hello.....

is there anybody out there...just nod if you can here me. Is there anyone at home?

I cannot believe it has been nearly a month since I last posted. Does anyone still read me? Have you been checking to if there is news in Lucy world, only to find the same old post still sitting there? I extend to you my most humble apologies. I do have excuses, many of them. But I will tell you what I tell my kids at school about excuses...they are like armpits and butt holes, everybody has them and they all stink!

All that matters is...I am back and hope to be posting regularly again.

..............................................................................

Now that school is out, I have been spending a great deal of time at the lake house. Just got Internet and television connected today. This is part of the reason I have not been posting...no connection. I was cut off from the outside world. It was great!

I do have to admit I did miss reading some of my favorite blogs (I caught up today), but I did not miss the TV one bit.

What is that you say, someone famous died? Oh yea, I think I heard that in the grocery store in the toilet paper aisle.

Hook, Line and Sinker

The hubby went fishing a week or so ago. What did he catch you might ask?

Himself!

That is a beautiful fly fishing hook stuck in his forearm. You can't pull them out and because it was buried so deep, there was no way he could tolerate pushing it through. What I would have done for a vial of lidocaine and a small syringe. But alas, off to the hospital we went for the 'emergency' removal of the fancy hook.

As we sat in the Nemo room ( no kidding ) looking at the lovely underwater murals of the clown fish and his friend, the Dr. entered and I again lamented not owning some lidocaine thus saving all of us this trouble.

He reacted rather interestingly considering he didn't know us from Adam. His response was,
"With the way things are going, it won't be long before you do."

I knew then, he was a physician who saw the demise of medicine, his career and the practice of healthcare as we know it. If Obama is successful with his healthcare plan, our individual choices in our medical care will end and so will many, many, many lives.

If you are concerned and feel the need to do something, check out this site: http://www.docs4patientcare.org/7301.html

Obama's administration has currently taken over the automotive industry, the banking industry, the tobacco industry and is now after the healthcare industry. When will it stop?

It won't stop until we get fed up, and quit swallowing the bureaucratic rhetoric and let the powers that be know we have had enough. I know I have...what about you?

Dusk

What does a man think about when a has a view like this?

His Majesty

Henry Winston Woo Woo

He came to us as a 60 pound four month old and we thought he was psycho. We considered returning him to the breeder. But we stuck it out and thankfully we did. For now he is the love of my life. At about 42 inches at the shoulder and around 160 pounds, he is the biggest baby I have.

He sits in my lap and talks to me constantly. He is the epitome of a gentle giant. And no I don't ride him!

Tell me about your baby.....

Snapshot #2

It is a place that is meant for the public, yet I felt I was intruding on your private moment. Your grief was palatable, consuming. It surrounded you as smog does the mountains or the tall buildings of a city over run with pollution....stagnant, and putrid. It was painful to watch yet I could not take my eyes from you.

I did not need the caretaker to tell me you were grieving. Your face said it all. But he shared your story with me. You, who lost your brother in the murderous attack on our country and specifically our Nation's Capitol, were instrumental in getting this very site constructed...the Pentagon Memorial.

It was Memorial Day and I had come to pay my respects to those who lost their lives in that attack. I had come to see the only national memorial in existence that honors that day and those who lost their lives. I got more than I bargained for.

I got a glimpse into your life...the life of a man who lives the personal horror of that day everyday. The horror of having your brother murdered by terrorists on a day he and many others were just doing their jobs.

I am haunted by your grief and I promise you, I will never forget!

Snapshots 1

I walked among them this past weekend. They were tall, short, thin, fat, young, old, clean cut, scruffy. I considered myself lucky and felt very honored to be there.

Some wore hats to identify where they had been. Others had medals pinned to their chests. But they were all there for the same reason: to honor those who did not come home with them.

I stopped a few and asked if I could take their picture. I was never turned down. I had conversations with complete strangers. But felt like I had known them a lifetime. I walked away awestruck and humbled.

These men, they came from all walks of life to serve a country they love. I swelled with pride, as I too love this country and am forever grateful for what they have given me: FREEDOM

Retired USMC

Over 37 years of service

Two tours of Vietnam

Both Gulf Wars

Bosnia

Beirut when the barracks were bombed

Still teaching our soldiers today

AMERICAN HERO

Land of the Free

Home of the Brave

I was there this past weekend...I can't write about it yet

Words of Wisdom

He was just a teenage boy. Like many, he blended in with the rest. I think I remember taking his temperature in the health office on a day he wasn't feeling well. But nothing much more about him stands out in my mind. He was just another student among the 300 others. Then he became a man and my memory changes.

He returned to my building one day in a uniform...handsome beyond words. I had heard that he had enlisted and was serving in the Middle East. I had also heard he was a Special Forces sniper.

He came that day to see his middle school teachers, to thank them for the education they had given him and to tell them it had paid off. He made a special effort to thank his math teacher, a wonderful woman, for he finally understands why he needed to know algebra. I guess it made him a better shot!

No, this is not a story about a soldier who has lost his life. This is a story about a soldier who wants to save yours and thinks we as a nation may have made a irreparable mistake.

He now makes his living working for an 'unknown' entity as some kind of operative. His own mother has no knowledge of her son's occupation other than he rarely talks about his work. On the one occasion he did, this is what he had to say (I paraphrase):

"In my job I am forced to break bread with some really awful, horrible people. The one thing I want people to know is this: these people are glad Obama is our president. They are ecstatic. They are not afraid of Obama. They were afraid of George Bush. And that puts every one of us in danger."

I fear, my friends, we are in trouble.

A Photo Op

Yes They Are!

Picture This...

A beautiful sunny day...you are sitting in your car enjoying a diet in a neighborhood park on your lunch hour. A red-headed woodpecker has just caught your eye as it bobs up the side of a tree looking for its lunch. Suddenly it takes flight toward a wooded area where your eye is drawn to the ground just at the tree's edge where there appears to be another kind of nature taking place.

Your brow crinkles as you can't quite wrap your head around what you are seeing:
"Is that the naked bottom of a child?"
"Did that woman just pull a leaf off that bush and wipe that little girl's hind end with it?"
"She is not using a stick to dig a hole and bury poop...Oh no she is not!"
"Oh my god, she just wiped her hands on her pants and the little girl is going back to play on the equipment with no panties on...I am not seeing this!"

Oh, and get this...the woman never put the phone down through the whole event!

The things you see in the park on a sunny day.....

In Memory of Memory

Memory...those vignettes of things past that bring us joy, or perhaps even moment of pain. Memory...the place we go when the present is momentarily too painful and the past is serene. Memory...a way to bring those who have left us back into our lives even if only for a moment. Memory...crucial to negotiating day to day tasks without thought or concern.

But what of those who have lost this precious gift? Where once there were pictures and stories to be recalled, what is there now? Do the thoughts that created the pictures, the pictures that created the words, the words that created the stories, vaporize into thin air leaving a vacuous chasm instead?

I have seen first what those who suffer from complex memory issues go through. It is disheartening and sad not only to those who are afflicted memory disorders, but also for those who love them.

My husband suffers from a condition known as Transient Global Amnesia. It is a complex and complicated condition but supposedly benign. The amnesia is temporary, but he never regains the time and events that he loses during the attack. Time... it is as precious as memories.

It gives me pause, our situation, for while my husband's medical condition as frightening as it can be, is temporary and benign. I stop and think about those who are in the midst of the clouded effects of Alzheimer's disease...a progressive, degenerative, devastating illness that robs the mind, body and soul of who we are, leaving nothing but an empty shell in its destructive path.

I believe we are all guilty...guilty of taking for granted a blessed gift...the gift of memory. Do you ever consider what life would be without it? Stop a moment and do so...for then you shall never take for granted again the things you can remember.

New Things

So there is the Redbubble thing. And I am trying to figure it all out. I have created a profile and added some pictures. I have joined a group and am hoping to create some really cool stuff (cards, prints etc). I thought if I were lucky I might even sell something. But I got to figure it all out.

In the meantime, a shout out to David for introducing Redbubble to the rest of the blogging world. I hope you will check back in to see what it is I am doing and maybe, just maybe, you will see something you just can't live without!

Check out my profile and remember...it is under constuction while I am figuring it all out!

It Was But A Dream

I was taken by her words to a world I only dream about...a world that for me has only existed in books and movies. But I was there, right beside her and I too felt the excitement, heard the rustle of the grass as they gently moved through it. I heard the growls, saw the leathered palms and oh, how I wanted to touch them. I felt the time disappear and the letdown when it was over. I knew I had experienced something grand and I wasn't even there.

I too have looked into their soft brown eyes and watched as they watched me. But unlike dear Tessa, guides, grass and nature did not divide me from my ancestor...

Carmi - You've Got Me Standing on the Tide Box!

Bambi, he was such a darling wasn't he? Big brown eyes, creamy white spots and not a destructive bone in his body! If it were only true. If the real Bambi's of the world were those sweet darling creatures that Walt created for us on the big screen, I wouldn't be pounding on my keyboard right now.

It seems that there are some issues in my friend Carmi's area with our lovely odocoileus virginianus becoming over populated and causing some problems. It is a familiar situation.

Years back, in a local park, the deer population was out of control. Bambi and his mom were starving. The two and their cohorts had managed to decimate close to 350 species of flora and fauna below the browse line in the park.

Bambi was breeding with his sister and she was giving birth to babies with 3 legs and two heads. Bambi was playing in traffic and frequently he wasn't the only one who lost. In otherwords, bad things were happening because there were too many Bambis!

The decision was made to cull the herd. What?! Cried the people. Kill the deer for their own good. We shall do no such thing. That is not humane! (Forget they are animals not people). So started a litany of 'experiments' to reduce the deer population. Here are just a few:

Birth control injections: In a three year period the drug was administered 279 times. The deer herd grew from 190 to 347 deer. Uh....I got nothing here.

February 1993: one deer shot by sharpshooter. Media attacked the event with major errors in reporting and the public went MAD (as in crazy). Shooting was suspended.

1993-1994: 526 deer were relocated from 4 parks. Mortality rates were 19% to 79% for those deer. Dear me...not very humane.

In 1995 the decision was made to quietly reduce the population (at that time 450 head per square mile) with the help of sharp shooters. This plan was highly successful and very cost effective. The population was reduced to a much more humane 20 -40 deer per square mile. The venison was donated to a local food pantry (very humane) and the flora and fauna have been allowed to regenerate. Car/deer collisions in the area have been reduced significantly. The culling continues on a yearly basis.

I am all for the culling of Bambi and his extended family via a deer slug. It isn't that I am overly concerned for the disappearing vegetation, though I do love nature. And I don't spend alot of time worrying about Bambi's with two heads (there is always the freak show at the fair). I do hate to see an animal starve to death though, so shooting them certainly takes priority over that.
What I do feel very strongly about and sure you will understand, is this:

My daughter was driving this vehicle when a 10 point buck jumped in front of her. She never saw him coming. In her words, "he fell from the sky." The insurance company totaled this Oldsmobile Bravada.

When I saw the damage inflicted by that buck, I nearly vomited. I was brought to tears with the knowledge my beautiful child had walked away from this twisted, mangled mess.

She had never made the first payment, owning it only two weeks. You will never know how grateful I am it was this vehicle she was driving. For if she had been driving her previous owned car, a Saturn coupe, I am certain she would be dead.

So Carmi, an overpopulation of deer is a dangerous thing. All sarcasm aside, they are stunning creatures with a place in our ecosystem. But whenever something becomes unbalanced bad things happen. If mother nature cannot take care of her own, then it is up to us to help her.

Don't let what happened to my daughter happen to yours...you may not be as lucky.

Dawn

click to enlarge

Brigid poses a wonderful question of us...do you ever rise early enough to see the dawn?

I find that when I am surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city the dawn passes me by. I pull the covers over my head, snuggle down with the warmth of the body next to me and hope for a few more minutes of sleep.

But when I am at the lake and the world is quiet and the land is far reaching, my eyes pop open before the light reaches the terra firma. I eagerly leave my nest, choosing a spot facing the east and wait patiently for the show to start.


It is dawn, it is different every day and it is never disappointing.

Perspective

Does it change your perspective when you look at the world through the round lens of a camera and then again through something else that is round? I think it just might make things appear to be a bit softer...something we all need now and again.

Life is Like That

It is inevitable, all good things must come to an end. Life is like that. But if you are lucky and the universe aligns just right, you will have something to cherish, something to fill the void that is left where flowers once bloomed or words rolled from tongues. Life is like that.

Twenty-One

Twenty-one...it is the sum of the first six integers.

Twenty-one...it is the legal drinking age in the United States

Twenty-one...it is the atomic number of scandium

Twenty-one...it is the name of a card and basketball game

Twenty-one...it is the number of spots on a cubical die

Twenty-one...it is the Constitutional amendment that overturned prohibition

Twenty-one...it is the number of years you have been dead

Twenty-one...it is the weight of the soul according to Dr. Duncan MacDougall

Twenty-one...it is the number of years I have missed you and hoped yours is finally at peace

Catching Up!

Sorry to have been MIA...I have been busy lately, doing things for me...reading, quilting, taking pictures.

I have finished two quilts, one each for my girls. Fabric scraps that have been sitting around for as long as twenty five years...fabric that once was fashioned into sundresses for tiny toddlers with blond curls, rosy cheeks and lips that were sweet and kissable. How long ago those days were.

These quilts are not beautiful nor are they works of art. They are what they are...cloth stitched together to form squares that were then stitched together to form a larger square...a patchwork of memories. Something to crawl under on a cold night or perhaps to wrap around a newborn someday in the future.

I handed one to each of them this past weekend and together we walked down memory lane. Reminiscing about what pattern had been cut into what form. Some of the patterns and prints have no memory for them, for they were still cradled in my arms swaddled in the weave of the fibers. So it is up to me to form the visions for them.

I felt my eyes glaze over as I told tales of pink gingham, polka dots, and florals fashioned into ruffles, dresses, costumes, bonnets and bows. Recollections of Easters, weddings, Christmas' and summer days decked out in whatever was fresh off the Singer. Memories.....

Though the quilts are similar to the other in color and style...each is also crafted with the personality of recipient in mind. One is quilted with hearts, the other with symbols of music. For there is a daughter who's heart guides her through life and the other who always has a song poised on her lips.

It was with this sentiment I gave to them these creations of woven thread...for my girls, each is as different and unique as her quilt...one is my heart and the other, my song.