New Favorite Book

One of the most interesting books in my reading list this last month or more is a very old one. Written in 1926 and set around the 1800’s, it made me wonder if a school age student today would even be able to read and understand it. The book was written by Dorothy Canfield Fisher and is called Understood Betsy. Oddly, it had never crossed my path before, but am so glad it did now!

It caught my attention in the very first paragraph, which is also a single sentence! ‘When this story begins, Elizabeth Ann, who is the heroine of it, was a little girl of nine, who lived with her Great-aunt Harriet in a medium-sized city in a medium-sized State in the middle of this country; and that’s all you need to know about the place, for it’s not the important thing in the story; and anyhow you know all about it because it was probably very much like the place you live in yourself.’ BRILLIANT!!

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The orphaned Betsy ends up moving in with another set of relations when her Great-aunt Harriet is discovered to have a ‘little cough’. Betsy has rarely done anything for herself because of her ‘delicate constitution’ and finds moving to a farm terrifying on one hand and liberating on the other. Made me wonder how a young person today would respond to situations Betsy ran into. ‘A dim notion was growing up in her mind that the fact that she had never done a thing was no proof she couldn’t.’

Another thought in the story was about personalities and why Betsy didn’t do something she thought she would. It was a convoluted comment that made me laugh out loud. I’ll just put in the last part of the paragraph, because it is rather long. ‘The long name is ‘personality,’ and what it means nobody knows, but it is perhaps the very most important thing in the world for all that. And yet we know only one or two things about it. We know that anybody’s personality is made up of the sum total of all the actions and thoughts and desires of his life. And we know that thought there aren’t any words or any figures in any language to set down that sum total accurately, still it is one of the first things that anyone knows about anyone else. And that is really all we know!’

The family dwelling didn’t have a telephone and it was not missed. In fact, one of Betsy’s aunts responded to this subject with “Sometimes it seems to me that every time a new piece of machinery comes into the door, some of our wits fly out at the window!” Reading that reminded me of King Solomon. Truly there is nothing new under the sun!

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Betsy is often confronted with words and phrases she didn’t understand and her uncle tells her, ‘You can always tell words you don’t know by the sense of the whole thing.’ That sense meaning the words around it. Which, for me, is often how I learn what a word means. Granted, it doesn’t usually tell me how to pronounce it, so my audible words have a distinct flavor others have no idea how to relate to! Thankfully, most of my reading is silent!

Each chapter in this short book has a title or description. The very best one is chapter VI (chapter 6). If You Don’t Like Conversation In A Book Skip This Chapter! Naturally, I didn’t skip it and it was a great deal of fun to read.

In the last chapter, Betsy meets up again with the aunt who always helped her during the first 9 years of her life and she learns to understand the aunt. This sentence was another one of those brilliant ones, ‘They both stopped talking for a moment and peered at each other through the thicket of words that held them apart.’

This has become one of my very favorite books in the last weeks. Because the character not only grows, she teaches and is realistic and is me. Brilliant! (oh, have already said that and I’m not brilliant, the book is!) The title is a play on words, which permeates the whole little book. And after reading this over, it appears I wrote a book review!! I’ll be jiggered!

The funniest thing is how popular the theme of orphans is. Daddy-Long-Legs is another one of my very favorite books (have mentioned that book numerous times in this blog!) and Anne of Green Gables is always one of my favorite characters, I’ve read the orphan series by Glynis Peters (nose crinkle. Those may be best sellers, but honestly, they are good but not near as literary as this short story I read about Betsy.), and, of course, there is Harry Potter (who completely annoys me!!). One of the books I’ll mention next week is another about an orphan, but only realised that just now!!! Very odd and strange. Do you have favorite books/movies about orphans??

Confusion!

Was thinking about how easily things are hidden in our world. How other things only exist in certain circumstances. How something may mean one thing, but does it really??? How only when we look for something can it be found..usually!!!

GH uses a lot of hilarious funnies on her blog with crazy photos that may not mean what they seem to. When I read, I find many phrases I need to stop and think (and I sometimes blink, because they are just too odd!). I recently ran into ‘Tender eyes.’ Seriously, this wasn’t a zombie story!! (although, I think zombies eat tender brains and eyes are probably more of a cannibal thing. Unless they are fish eyes, which anyone can eat!) Then, there were ‘tall foaming goblets‘. Those reminded me of an old-fashioned bar sign! This one just made me laugh out loud. (also eyes, but probably not copied exactly because I forgot which book it was in!) “His eyes were hard brown pebbles.” It made me want to put them in a garden! Seriously, eyes or hair can be like something, but even then, it is a tad dubious. Hair like a raven’s wing. Does this person not know that ravens can get fleas and ticks and mites? And how often wing feathers are broken? Yes, raven feathers are shiny and black and I get one needs to pump up descriptions, but sheesh!! And euphemisms in erotica. My land!!! A turgid member could be a congested person in parliament, but probably not. (adjective: swollen, distended or congested)

Then, you discover easy to plant seeds aren’t exactly. Radishes (which I don’t like, but the leaves look pretty) are ridiculous. In a children’s book by a favorite author, Mrs. Piggle Wiggle gave radish seeds to a mom who had a son with an aversion to cleanliness. She planted them and pulled them til the boy decided to do more than splash water on his skin. The radishes I planted up at the MiLs house grew, but not exactly. They can get too spicy if left in the ground too long, they can crack if they don’t get enough water, and they like cool weather with lots of sun. The radishes in my yard are huge leaves, which I like, but it is annoying. Mine are in an area with lots of water and sun, hers are in full hot sun and don’t get lots of water. Hers are super ball sized cracked globes that Little Bear said aren’t too bad. The peas in full sun are not a crop at all. I realised they need full sun and cool temps with a lot of water. Beans also need warmth, but not really warm. The cucumber are doing ok, but they are hidden inside the vines and I need to be careful when watering them. If I hit a little cuke, it will fall off and die! I’ve always admired the lovely flowering vines called a clematis. I’ve never gotten one to grow. Those, the roots need shade and cool, but the vines need a lot of sun. Then there is this thing called ph, which has to do with something in the soil. Gardens are science and most of mine is hit or miss. Perhaps I should be careful with cleaning chemicals in the house! Hit or miss works best when things don’t combust.

Then, there are the things in our world that are truly camouflaged. Not the odd shades of pink or purple that I adore, but are not exactly a camo pattern. Real ones. Little Bear has been keeping his rabbits cool with misters and fans, creating an ecosystem the frogs love. They have different designs and colors and are often super hard to find. Polyphemus moths are not exactly camouflaged, but they can blend in a bit. Many babies are hidden by the patterns on their fur. And then you have killdeer birds who put their nests any which where and freak out if you get too close with their wounded wing thing. (Although, one ridiculous nest was right on the edge of the driving path.) If you look, you can find them. But, you need to look!

Even my glucose is annoying. The Freestyle Libre sensor can be 5 or 10 or 50 different from a Contour Next blood test. Tomorrow night we are hoping to see the movie about Elvis. We’ll take the 56 Mercury because it screams Elvis (although, Elvis’ first movie was in ’56, it wasn’t when he first became famous). I’m not in teen age love, but I’m definitely ‘All Shook Up‘!

On the Eve of March

February still exists here in the PNW for a few more hours so this post is still valid! The month of February is truly my favorite month, it will be sad to see it leave. Outside the wind is sending the poplar voices into a cacophony as the limbs are whipped to and fro. Was anticipating March was popping in like a lion, but the next few days show sunshine and warmer temps. Thus, Feb is the one leaving like a lion. Probably a snow leopard. Not much is left. Little Bear’s rabbit sculpture has about a mom sized foot print left in a tiny pile and there is a larger pile out on the street. Had about an inch dropped yesterday, Snow Moon. So, reckon it is apt!!

Passing on the loving of this month during the ensuing ones will be a bit more difficult since the holidays are different and there are no birthday’s or anniversaries (especially in March). Yet, it is still February and to celebrate the last day, PURPLE!!!!!!! In the photo of me (took one on my birthday at the start of Feb, so one at the end, too!!) , you can’t see the rocks dangling from my ears, Also have some rose quartz hearts I’ve not worn yet, but well, amethyst!! Also purchased some snowflakes. They are interesting. Definitely lower box store quality, a tad larger than my ears, but fun costume baubles with sparkles!

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Also found a purple quote without a source. When the source was found, it made me sad and changed the entire tone of the quote. Or so I thought. The first quote was this, ‘you touched me and I became a lilac sky.’ The entire quote is this, “You were red, and you liked me because I was blue, but you touched me and I became a lilac sky, and you decided purple just wasn’t for you.” Those are by a musician poet, Halsey. Crediting sources is always important. So many get them wrong….

“I like to write with a lot of emotion and a lot of power. Sometimes I overdo it; sometimes my prose is a little bit too purple, and I know that.” HG Bissinger. Rather adore purple prose!!!!!!!

From Jimi Hendrix’s song ‘Purple Haze’ are these words, “Purple haze all in my eyes, don’t know if it is day or night, You got me blowin’, blowin’ my mind. Is it tomorrow or just the end of time?” Not sure if it is the end of time, but I figure one should go for magic, no matter where you might be!!! And purple!

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‘P’ is everywhere!

I hope this post doesn’t get lost inside the last post I shared 16 hours ago. Perhaps it will be plucked from the pair and bestow at least one giggle. One can only hope! (it is also a tad long…)

I’ve mentioned this character before. He was one of my favorite super heroes from the 70’s. Letterman from The Electric Company. He’d be proud of how often I found the letter ‘P’ on Saturday.

Mum has always been a collector. Often her collections could be categorized. Fabric, yarn, lighthouses, books, and so on. Sometimes, however, they defy description. I do have to point out, the final ‘P’s is not hers, but mine. It amused me, so, I’ll write it up while I’m perfecting my pancakes.

Ages ago, I read a book to a group of preschoolers. It was called, ‘If you give a pig a pancake’. Fun story by Laura ..(She also wrote, ‘If you give a moose a muffin’). I read it to the kids on ‘P’ Day (in lower grades we’d often have a day to practice the use of certain letters and numbers). Many of the kids grew up on farms with cows, but they’d have loved this crazy keychain I found in mom’s lighthouse stash. I’m not sure why this little guy was hidden in the darkness behind the towering lighthouses, but he was still smiling. I have no idea where the pink piggy came from, he obviously was happy among the dust bunnies. I carefully pulled him out of his spot on the shelf and thought he was cute. He is. Oddly, there was a brownish greyish dusty blob off his butt. I gingerly picked away the fluff and discovered it was soft!!! Then, it dawned upon my unbelieving brain, the pig’s blob was supposed to be poo! I almost dropped him when I realized just what he had been doing for decades in the dirt.  I dusted the plastic of the pig and noted his huge smile, then I accidently squeezed the pint sized porcine pocket pet and he pooped more! The most disturbing part of the poop and the pig, is that when you release the tummy, the excrement exuded returns from whence it came!!

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This second ‘P’ is also a ‘T’, but it baffled me for years and then when I discovered more, I was even more confused. Mum brought back from Minnesota, a piano. It isn’t a good piano, but it has been in the family for generations. (Probably why my sister wants it. I’m not sure where she’ll put it, but that is her call, not mine.) Anyway, the top, like most level surfaces in this house, has become a catch all. As I cleaned it off, I moved a glass gazebo sort of thing with a tiny priestess inside. All around it were angels (another of mom’s collections) and things depicting Norway and photos and whatnot. I realized the gazebo thing didn’t have a door, you lifted the top off. Like a cover on a dish. Yet, the robed priestress holding a manuscript within made no sense. I picked the resin ecclesiastical portrayer of the faith from where she’d been standing, pontificating to nothing since 2014 or earlier and placed her on the piano lid (she was probably glad to get out of there!). Gently I dusted off the container and when I turned the bottom over I read the thing was a terrarium! Why on earth would you put a priestess in a terrarium?? An empty terrarium? Is she attempting to recreate Genesis one? Lord knows there was enough dust outside the container. Is she actually a replication of a reincarnation of Dr. Who only with a terrarium instead of a booth? Maybe my sister put the priestress inside, she probably gave her the pig, too. Jake has an obscure sense of humor (remembering to when she bit off all the tops on the candy corn and put it back in the dish. Mum was convinced the candy corn was a different variety. Not triangular and the white was missing.). In retrospect, the tiny lady may have been from when mom portrayed a nun in ‘Sound of Music’, but that still doesn’t explain why she was in a terrarium!

This last ‘P’, as I mentioned, was really something of mine. I was looking in the empty cupboards and fridge (they aren’t exactly empty, only mostly empty. The fridge has some cheese and condiments. The freezer has a package of frozen veggies, aged burritos that I’d not eat if unless you paid me well, and a diet pepsi in a plastic bag.) Surprised, I removed the crystalized pop and placed it outside to thaw. I’m a fan of slushy beverages. Dairy Queen used to have this drink called a Mr. Misty, basically a slushy, and if you added vanilla ice cream to it, it was perfect. My youngest likes a frozen watermelon drink I’ve made on occasion and I now like a slushy diet cola. I’ve also wanted some bubbles since my return north and was pretty excited to find this treat. After a few hours, I noted it starting to melt and brought it inside. I had been cautious because frozen pop can distend bottles and make a mess if left unsupervised. After a bit longer, my impatience was at its limit. The bottle was mostly full of ice, yet there was a smidge of thawed Pepsi and my tongue was craving the flavor. It took a bit of force to crack open the lid that immediately exploded across the kitchen! Quickly, I sealed it back up and started to laugh as I surveyed the places the carbonated potion had landed. On me, on the counter, on the cupboards, and the walls. I managed to get it tidied and opted to perform the opening outside. Once again, Pompeii was recreated in fizz and foam in the palms of my hands. As you can see, I lost quite a bit of the Pepsi and now it is flatter than the pancakes I made and consumed for my brunch.

Perhaps, as I empty the bell cabinet, I’ll find other letters to share! Although, I do love the letter ‘P’!!

Embracing Words

March 2 is the birthday of the doctor who prescribed books to a tiny kindergartner in Homer, AK. Chatting with blogging and facetime folks, many of us who were born in the latter part of the 60’s learned from something new called educational TV. The Public Broadcasting System was reaching out to children and a generation was caught. (I’m going to borrow heavily from YouTube)

Sesame Street taught me my letters (and numbers, but they weren’t as important. Sorry, Count!).

The Electric Company taught me how those letters worked (I am sure they also did numbers, but I can’t remember!).

School House Rock taught quite a few word things (and about the Bill on Capitol Hill). I’ve never forgotten this song!

Mr. Rogers, bless the dear man, taught me kindness and social skills. Then, I met Dr. Seuss when I was 5 going on 6 (or thereabouts). From him, I learned I didn’t need to wait for an adult to read to me. I could do it myself! The Doctor’s birthday is ‘Read Across America Day’ and this next week heralds Read an E-book week. I think the Doctor would smile.

I read a lot. Wordsmiths mean a great deal to me. The characters and stories and thoughts hid me during a tumultuous childhood, they have been my friends throughout my life seasons, and they teach me every time I open up pages to fall into their worlds again.

One of my favorite books (yes, I say this often) is ‘A Touch of Wonder’ by Arthur Gordon. I decided to take it off my headboard this month and was changed once more. It is full of short thought pieces of his life that encourage us to find and recognize wonder. He often writes about his journey as a writer. In one section he shares an encounter he had when he was a kid with an older man who he only knew as ‘the Teacher’. The man was sick, but gave of himself to a grubby boy who liked to fish. He told that kid, “Words..just little black marks on paper. Just sounds in empty air. But think of the power they have! They can make you laugh or cry, love or hate, fight or run away. They can heal or hurt. Rhythm..life is full of it; words should have it. listen to the waves on a quiet night; you’ll pick  up the cadence. Look at the patterns the wind makes in dry sand and you’ll see how syllables in a sentence should fall…But, the magic he taught wasn’t confined to words; he had a way of generating in me an excitement about things I had always taken for granted. He night point to a bank of clouds. ‘Colors are not enough. Look for towers and drawbridges. Look for dragons and griffins and strange and wonderful beasts.’

This is also something I learned from the Doctor. To see something no one else does. It often identifies me as quirky and odd and on the other hand, it gives me a view beyond myself. I often talked to this tall guy on the lake near mom’s. I wave at him from the kayak. I’m always looking to see if he made it through another winter. No one else sees him, it doesn’t matter. He exists in my world and that is enough.

Bloom and Not

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The Craftsman’s African Violet is finally showing beautiful blooms after a long dormancy. I, however, am not.

Saturday of this last week, The Craftsman said he wanted to spend as much time with me as possible since I was leaving in a few weeks (2, as of that particular date). I was skeptical, but agreed. Skeptical because this last week was the start of a tulip festival several hours away that I’ve always wanted to attend. (for at least a decade!) I had mentioned it, put information on the counter about it, and the time is passing. Little Bear even asked about it. This next Saturday night I could have gone to a musical with our former librarian, but opted out. In case The Craftsman should want to do something.

We’ve finally watched most of the Marvel movies (still need to see Ant Man and the Wasp, which I was told is more crucial to understanding End Game than the last very bad Marvel movie) and I suggested we should watch ‘Newsies‘ last weekend. It is a favorite, but we’ll get to it eventually. (it might be one I take north with me!!) Sunday night I was asked if I felt like going through boxes up at his mom’s from our move to EO in 2008. After about 30 minutes of sorting, a neighbor stopped by to ask a car question (they are both car buffs) and in the ensuing discussion the two discovered more mutual hobbies. This time of Hot Wheels and model railroading. (I laughed and left them to it) I eventually went home with the kid.

Monday, I baked and did chores all day. When The Craftsman called after work, he said he’d stop to pick up some things at the store, meds and what not. He also said he was going to help someone with their car that evening. (he did bring me home some delightful purple mini carnations. Although, I never buy flowers in the spring. I pick garden ones and have vases in several spots full of flowers! He got back from working on the car about 930 and after his shower went upstairs to do something.) Tuesday he has a weekly meeting to attend (Little Bear is going to try to see End Game. Neither will be home til after 9.). Wednesday, Little Bear is working after work for one of his bosses on her ranch and The Craftsman is maybe picking up some materials in a different town after work for a project he’s started. (about 40 minutes from here, so not too far away) Saturday is a city wide clean up and dump day (I got my pond and rocking yard chair different years from that particular day!). I’ve asked if we can got to End Game on Sunday afternoon, we’ll see.

As for me, one morning at the end of this week I get to have my blood drawn and then on the 7th I visit my endocrinologist. My glucoses have been ridiculous! I need to return to the north where I don’t cook or eat much but low sugar ice cream and chicken! Although, I did discover an excellent way to eat a yummy cheese spread I make frequently. It is cream cheese mixed with shredded cheese and a packet of dry ranch dressing. I started filling celery sticks with it and those are devoured like candy by all three of us! So, I think I’ll make that up there, too.

I missed Book and Flower day this year. It was on my calendar, but I decided not to give away either one and stayed inside. I also missed Earth Day..Since Naked Gardening Day is on Saturday, I’ll miss participating in that, too! I reckon I’ll go back in time and give you an army of frogs (that is what a LOT of frogs are called!) post Earth Day. These are from a few years back! (I love their little ‘hands’!)

The 14th.

Gracious, this is a bit of a waffling on!! Bear with me, please! (Not that kind!!! laughing!)

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Normally this holiday is my absolute favorite one in the entire year. I can hand out cookies and flowers with hugs like a politician kissing babies prior to an election (do they even still do that???) with little consequences. I’m not there, this year. I don’t exactly know why. I’m going to make heart cookies for The Craftsman to take to work and have some bunny graham crackers for Little Bear (some bunny loves him very much!). Yet…It’s just another day. I also am getting the plugs put in my eyes, not an entirely romantic sort of thing! But definitely needed. I’ve got an easy dinner planned, so I don’t need to think about that much. (I plan for EVERY dinner, it is better to decide days ahead!!)

I keep thinking about Boston Ferns. A lovely plant sitting on the shelf near sunshine and watered once a week. I didn’t want to be this plant again, but it sort of looks like it is my place. I recall Mary Poppins pulling a large potted plant from her voluminous carpet bag and stating, ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever.’ Is being a Boston Fern that horrible? I do have everything I need, even if I don’t have what I want.

In church last Sunday, the bulletin had a brochure inside. As most of us do, I read it during lulls in the sermon. You have to remember it is a church thing, but it does have good stuff in it. It also made me think about how little interest modern churches have in the Old Testament. (Where the Song of Songs is.) The focus is on the love in the New Testament, which is grand, and most forget about the fascinating stuff in the previous writings. (Song of Songs is one of the most erotic books I’ve ever read and I’ve read a great many of that genre.) Anyway, our world, in and out of church buildings, is all about love. People today spread it around like confetti (or like I usually do on Feb. 14). They are what I call ‘Love Zombies’. People attracted to love, wishing for love to be everywhere, do activities in the name of love, and condemn those who cannot love they way they believe. (Crazy!!) And yet, there is something missing. Love isn’t just a noun, it is an action verb. This is what people forget.

When I read the snippet in the brochure, it made sense. Cherish is missing from love in all kinds of relationships. This is action. Cherishing is laughing together, playing, disagreeing with care, sharing lives, and working to make the friendship stronger. Together cherishing and loving make a place where people bond, grow, and develop. A place of being curious about each other and not being bored. Fascinated with the person they were and are becoming.

In marriage, mine in particular, I know care and love exist. I am taken care of medically (my readers know more about that than anyone in my family!), I am warm and well fed (I am becoming very fond of Mt. Olive pickles…), and I do get hugs at least once a day, often with a kiss or two. (Attempts to encourage this are inconclusive.)

I get so tired, though, of The Craftsman saying things like, ‘I’m no good at planning.’ Yes, I do think ahead, I learned to do this. Buying treats in the store, putting a note with them, and placing them strategically isn’t that difficult. (I’ve done this often since my return. Notes alone are nice, too.) I know The Craftsman has a couple of projects he’s been working on for quite a while for me. I imagine they’ll get done eventually. I know there are three movies coming out before I head north we (as a family) want to see. (I never did get to see Mary Poppins Returns, but I’ve read the books!) If I ask for something, usually I end up purchasing it or Little Bear does. I’m beginning to think Cupid has been shot….

The 14^th is a beautiful day. I hope yours is full of good things and that you cherish those around you from family and friends to stuffed animals, fuzzy pets and beautiful plants. I know I will.

Yours, Kris, the Boston Fern.

A bit of Everything

As I sit at my laptop, contemplating this week. The last months. The last year. Next week. I feel an ache in my chest and tummy from not being loving enough toward friends. Toward my family. I should have been a better friend to so many of those I know. When those friends extended an invitation or some other form of friendship (communication or whatever), I should not have ignored them. Passed it off because I may be needed with mom. So many opportunities lost because I was trying to be responsible to one and dropped it with others. With my family, I need to remember to not mind when someone is busy. I need to remember their lives are just as convoluted as mine. I need to remember to give more to those I adore, admire, and care about so much. I ran across this video on FB. I love the video blogger (is that the right term?). Once again, he hits the nail on the head. I’m too busy with mum and forget to take care of the others who are important to me. And then, they are gone in one way or another!

In the previous post, I asked for help. I didn’t clarify I have some things in order. Sort of. Mum does have a will. That was finalized just before she was put in the hospital in 11-2016. (If you have parents, try to slip them towards the sharing information stage a bit before a critical medical situation!) She did ask to have money set aside for her cremation (I should probably talk to her financial advisor). There are several venues for a memorial service, I just don’t know if I should go big or not. People may not go because they went to the baseball game last summer (in fact, mum’s pastor mentioned in a roundabout way that the baseball game was a sort memorial for her.), but not all her friends attended that. As I look at the service, it seems like I’m getting ready for the closing ceremonies at a Cub Scout day camp. (I was program director for many years with such programs) Mum is always the most important person and once she is gone, this is going to be her last hurrah. I had better make it important. She wasn’t a vet, dad was. I also want to put a sidewalk square for her in a busy, favored park in town. However, she’s got this silly idea that it was illogical to put up a park for someone who died while drinking.(—He was one of the cutest kids in my class, it is a very pretty park, and he was screwing around drinking.) There are a lot of memorial stones in it for educators. Mum would be right at home!

I did find out about her house mortgage today. It is almost done, but I had no idea just making a last payment wouldn’t end it. Next month will finish it and I’ll visit a banker and hope it gets sorted. I could do it this month, but am not sure how the next weeks will pan out. (I may need those dollars!) I had a statement thoroughly explained to me today and need to take another thing to Sir Wrench to see if it is important (an informative letter about the rig). I also found out that mom had signed up to have Fed Ex or UPS things dropped at the post office. (I learned from SSC that the addresses out here are absolutely bonkers. Even though mum lives in one city, her physical house address is a different one! Don’t ask me how this works, it apparently does. The post out here is for the city mum lives in, they help the drivers who drop off things by giving them a localized spot. Granted, most of them know where mum is, but wow!)

Next week is going to be a bit of a pull for mum. She told me she was too tired to get her hair cut this week, so she’ll do it next. She walked to the paper box this morning, it was 20 degrees, but she said it wasn’t bad except for the wind. (she wore her down coat and was pretty panting when she came inside. She decided to go because I forgot it wasn’t Saturday. The paper doesn’t come on Saturdays) The other day, when the nurses were here, I was holding her so they could examine her back. She is so frail!!! I know not having teeth makes her look more feeble overall, but damn, she almost looked better when she was going thru chemotherapy. Almost. Monday we fly to the city and back to have her pump checked over. Tuesday she has labs done in a nearby town. Wednesday the nurse comes to see her. Thursday she gets her hair done in the morning and meets her new oncologist in the afternoon. Friday she gets to talk to the oncologist counselor. (thankfully, they won’t talk to me! I’d take reams of paper if they took notes!) She said it would be a bit much, but she could do it. After another week of healing from the surgery and getting it recalibrated, she’ll be ready to go.

Not so myself. I am so damn tired. I look at photos from a couple of summers ago and I was prettier then. Today, I have an almost perpetual crease between my eyes, a fairly constant headache that vanishes only when I manage to forget I’m the responsible one, I drink too much diet pepsi because I need to be alert, and my tummy aches cuz I’ve been too busy for those special people in my life. I find myself getting on my boots and just looking at them half on and thinking it is too much work. I eat too many spoonful’s of ice cream or snack on Kit Kats and Jr Mints. (the latter are on sale again!!)

I don’t want to get up in the morning. I notice tears are on the edge of my eyelids and almost anything will send them spilling over onto my wrinkled faded cheeks and freckles. I’m a pathetic mess. I would say I don’t care about anything except getting mum sorted, but that isn’t true. I do have things I want to do and attempt to make time for. (I was totally bummed.  I was going to elf on Friday and due to one thing and another, never managed to get there. Hoping I will this Saturday. Thankfully, the owner of the home is staying elsewhere for most of the weekend again, giving me the go ahead for a different time. House elves to the fore!!) I did get some more books and am enjoying an absolutely awesome read I’ll post about later. (except I forgot to take notes!!!! Grrrr) Maybe I just need hugged and kissed and….

No matter, I am going to leave you with this photo that made me cringe, even as I took it. (or is that WHY I took it!!!???!!) The local Safeway is going through extreme renovations, moved the eggs, and scrambled their grammar.

Words of Me

Becky shared this word today. Atelophopbia which is a noun that means the fear of imperfection. This is my word. I am always afraid. I am constantly feeling inferior to almost everyone. I am not elegant and lovely and tall and buxom or smart and witty and clever and confident.  I am short and much more than chubby, moderately well-read, not much fun, and negative as a dead battery. (actually, dead batteries don’t have anything. So I’m more like one of those magnets that you try to affix to something and discover it can only work one way. Stupid things) I got an email from a friend back in Oregon. He’d seen my family blog and the photos below were in it. He said how one of them was uncomplimentary and I looked puffy and tired. Gee, I wonder which one? LOL  (Now, I feel even more shitty.)

 

Yeah, I do negative better on myself than when allowing others to do it for me. It is a type of rejection. Rejections is something I am totally familiar with, but not something I deal with well. I’m learning, though. I’ve become a much stronger person than I was a year ago this month. I’ve had to learn to do things by myself and I can. It may take a while, but I manage. In my marriage, I’m often put aside for other things. It is normal. I do it, too. I often make cookies and read at night when The Craftsman wants to watch TV. I’ll go for a walk when he’s just sat down instead of asking before he gets comfy in his chair. I’ll not hang out up at the shop while he’s working because I’d rather stay at the house. (I can read just as well up there) It is something the two of us do to each other. He tells me he gives me all the time he can, which makes sense. He is only at the house a couple of hours from 6-10 or 1030 pm, before he’s too tired for much more than tv and sleep. I need to make sure I fit in his schedule better.

I know I do some things well, not many, but a few. Unfortunately, the things I do well are unmarketable. I am an aging stay at home mom with a liberal arts college degree in silly courses, and a terrific volunteer who has nothing to go on with. The kids are grown, my spouse and I have nothing in common (or little), caregiving is my whole life, and I’m a doormat. I have to stay where I am, I have two very expensive diseases that I can’t live with ignoring. (literally! I had to fight to keep an appointment for myself. Mom is getting her dentures started at the end of March. Which means I can’t leave til those are done. If then.) I must learn to be content in following other lives or with stolen moments where I’m on the edges of those lives. Hoping I don’t fuck them up somehow, because I don’t belong. Kind of like those games on Sesame Street where one of these things is not like the other. I’m the cotton candy in the organic veggies aisle!!

As a Shadow Girl my life is behind others. I understand this, it has been that way my whole life. I take care of others to make them feel better. It is what I’m made of. I had to laugh. My sister called today and she told me I needed to take care of myself because, ‘She couldn’t do all this with mom by herself.’ (WTF??? We haven’t seen her since Christmas!! She works less than 10 miles from mom, she calls every so often and is constantly sick or busy with her family) The Craftsman tells me he’ll do things better when I return. Almost every night, very late, in his ‘I’m tired, I’m sorry I didn’t call, Goodnight, love.’ texts, he adds ‘I love you.’ I know he’s busy, but he is thinking of me. (Speaking of which, it is now 1230 am there and I’ve not heard from him yet. He’s probably doing something.)

I had to stop reading the Anne book about the librarian abducted by aliens, because it is a fairy tale sort of soft porn love story. I can’t see fairy tales (even if I did schedule part of one for Wednesday’s post!), I’m not that kind of material. I’m more PB and jelly on white bread than succulent finger snacks with wine.  So, I decided to read the YA book about horses for King Arthur instead. Love and support among animals is even nil in my world, but it is much easier to read. Thankfully, it will be March soon. Redwall books are on the agenda. (Strider and I got to meet Brian Jacques—pronounced Jakes and not like the name of the French guy on that really old TV show who made everyone realise there was an exciting world under the ocean!) He’s a good March read because there is always a harvest going on and cooking and baking and feasts and they are great fun!

Darkness lurks often. Especially after a really bad time with mom. We don’t love each other. It might be easier if we did. We tolerate each other. I provide a means to keeping her alive, in spite of the fact she’s doing as much of what she wants anyway. I’m useful. I also found out tonight that mom thinks my sister only wants her money. I told her she’ll get half of everything, as it is written in her will. She got really mad. It seems she loaned 10 grand to the kid for something and they’ve not paid it back. She’s given a lot of money to them for all kinds of things. She doesn’t think it is fair Jake should have it all and I get nothing. I honestly don’t care. I did want to be able to get a place up here with what might be left. However, there won’t be much and that makes me very happy. The less finances after a death, the less there is for people to fight over. I did tell mum if she didn’t like the will, she could change it. Nope, she’d rather bitch about the past.

I keep thinking how I’ll get everything taken care of after mom is gone and then vanish myself. I honestly don’t think many would notice. And I don’t care. I’m not really interested in anything anymore. Why should I be? It doesn’t matter. I used to think it did, but it doesn’t. It would be such a relief to not be afraid anymore. To not be in the way.  To not be in charge. To not be worried about being pretty or good enough. To not have to be a bother. To not need to make sure everyone else was ok. To not be a financial drain medically. (note: I’d have to make sure there was some sort of closure. Just to vanish is stupid. My ex brother in law did that and nothing can be done til a couple more years pass, I think. Although, if he showed up, I might just off him myself!!!) One of my friends said we need to go on an Inside Passage cruise (which I’ve always wanted to do) and be taken care of. I laughed. I’d probably not be allowed in the very front of the ship to watch the waves. Besides, I couldn’t afford to do it. I’d feel guilty every time I needed to tip someone because it wouldn’t be enough and I’d be sure to mess something up somewhere.

The circle of atelophopbia. I’m sure it will roll over soon. It generally does.

The Money Plants in my Oregon yard

Garfield, from Garfieldhugs, talked about and then posted pictures of her money plant. I thought it was very interesting, because the plant in my Eastern Oregon yard is also called a money plant or dollar plant and it is totally different! The plant I have is often considered a weed. It has a bushy long stem with serrated leaves. The stem has tiny hairs up and down the plant and the flowers are either white or purple. They may be other colors, in my yard, they stay to these two hues.  They are great companion plants and smell very nice. I like to use the dried seed stems in fall decor, too.

After the plants go to seed, little pods, like coins appear. Those pods open very easily and seeds are broadcast everywhere. These little pods are also thought to look like coin purses or silver dollars. It has many names such as the money plant, the silver dollar plant, the honesty plant, and moonwort. If only real money spread like this flower does! Oddly, before I left, I noticed many of my plants had spots. It was a fungus, so I hope they survived and are still around. (apparently, they don’t like watered with the UGS system.)