Embrace The Suck

"We don't have to feel helpless. We can help. Our small actions together will ripple outward." I'm so darned bothered by this whole oil spill. By the spill itself, by the news coverage, by BP, by not knowing what's the truth and what isn't, by the thought of oil covered sea life and tar-ball covered beaches, not to mention a big ol' hurricane heading straight for the mess. And I live hundreds of miles away. I can't imagine what the people who have seen it, breathed it and lived it every day since the pipe broke must feel. But here's the thing. I/you/we can sit around and wring our hands or moan and groan about not being able to do anything or we can do something. And one something is to visit ripplesketches.blogspot.com/ again. Or if you haven't been there check it out today. I go several times a day. I've bought three pictures, which means I've donated $30.00 which means I've personally paid for enough Dawn dish detergent to clea

"Instead of bland, it's spicy and fragrant with the flavors of lime and citrus which are natural and healthy and add zing." Elizabeth Simon This may look like an ordinary bowl of salsa. In reality it is a bowlful of, to use the words of Sweetie a self-proclaimed salsa aficionado,"perfection". Personally I think it was a tad on the fiery side as evidenced by the smoke coming out of the ears of people brave enough to try it. What I think is important to note about this bowl of dragon's breath is that it is homemade by little ol' ME. I used Weneki's recipe but without knowing it, apparently kicked it up a notch. I did not do this intentionally. My goal in adding the extra chilies was to add volume, not heat. I also increased the amount of onions and tomatoes and lime juice. Perhaps my mistake was in not bothering to measure anything. I got into a real chopping rhythm. Chop, chop, chop ... toss in the bowl. Chop, chop, chop ... toss in the bowl. I consi

"When the night has come And the land is dark, And the moon is the only light we'll see, I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid, Just as long as you stand, stand by me." Last week Patty put up a link to a video that I really love. I have played it over and over again. In a rare moment yesterday, I found myself alone. Dad was asleep, Sweetie in the pool. I decided I needed a some music to go along with the solitude. So I set my computer on the ironing board (which sits in the middle of the room, next to the ironing pile with the supposed intent to inspire me to get the job done, ha!), turned up the volume and started dancing. All by myself, feeling the music, letting the beat guide my movements. In my reverie I didn't hear Sweetie come in the back door. I sensed rather then saw him. My heart became aware of his presence. I opened my eyes and the man I adore was dancing with me. Neither of us spoke. We didn't need words. We let our bodies do the talking.

Would you like some yogurt or some Jello? What's yellow? I didn't say yellow, I said Jello. Oh. I guess yellow yogurt would be peach or apricot. Both of those would be good. I'll take peach. Sorry dad all we had was pineapple. Would you rather have Jello? What's yellow? And so goes the third day of Dad taking a different, i.e. stronger, pain medication. Yesterday started at 445am (not my best time) with Dad trying to figure out where he was - where everyone was. I know from experience there is no un-confusing a drug confused mind, so I stayed up with him, answering questions that had no answers. About the time he went back to sleep, it was time to get up, take another pill (Nurse #2 says not to stop giving them. Keep on schedule. They are timed release. It takes 3 days to get into his system. The goofiness will dissipate) and get dressed so we can get to the cardiologist on time. Somehow we both rally at the same time. I make the necessary wheelchair to car and vice v

"A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul." Johann Wolfgang von Goethe There's a new blog in town you might be interested in seeing and participating in. My friend, Fyrebird, over in England started it. In just the few days it's been up and running it has already got some pretty fantastic photos up. Beautiful World is "a place to see our world from around the world." Beauty, of course, is in the eye of the beholder. But I don't think you'll be disappointed if you make it a daily habit to stop by and see what other people around the world see. In my limited blog experience I know several photographers who consistently make me say "ahhh" or "wow" or "awesome" or "how did you get that shot?". You know who you are. Don't be shy. Hop on o

"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard." Winnie the Pooh [A.A. Milne] I think there has been a changing of the guard at our house. I'm not even sure when it happened. One day dad had the puzzle book, the next day I did. It may look like there was an official handoff, but it was actually a gradual thing. For years when my father sat at the kitchen table sipping on lukewarm coffee, he occupied his head and his hands by doing crossword puzzles. His birthday, Christmas, Father's Day, the standard gift from at least one of his daughters, sometimes more than one, has been a book filled with New York or LA Times Sunday crosswords. They are stacked up on the bamboo table at the end of the hall. When he finishes one book, there is always another one to replace it. Even though I have an affinity for words, I always thought crossword puzzles, at least the one's Dad likes, were way out of my realm of expertise. If I'm a first grade puzzler,

"It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do a little - do what you can." Sydney Smith Like most other people I have been horrified by the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, yet feel helpless to do anything about it. It's so big. And let's face it, in the larger scheme of things, especially when it comes to oil spills, I'm so small. Thinking I could my part to help the last time I got my hair cut, I asked Charles if he was collecting hair to put towards the mopping up efforts. Alas, he was leaving that up to the dog groomers in town so my shorn locks went into the trash can. And I'm left to wring my hands and rail against modern man(and woman) for ruining the earth. [Apparently dog hair stuffed into pantyhose make a pretty good oil sucker-upper. Who knew?] Then I read Tessa's blog , which led me to the Ripplesketches blog . It's a place where artists from all over the world are contributing small original works of art which,

Sitting next to my Dad's bed tonight I saw this Target ad . I don't know how it happened that she is on TV, but I'm pretty sure the "Mary" in the commercial is my inner child. Do you ever feel like dipping your feet in pink paint, or frosting a cake with your hands or wearing fairy wings? I do! Wishing you a day filled with the color of your choice, Merry ME

1030am Another day. Same room. Same Chair. Today, however, Dad is up. He moves slowly, but under his own steam. As Sweetie would say, this is a good thing! He got to the bathroom unaided. I heard him singing a little ditty he must have learned many years ago while at the Naval Academy. Boy cat is asleep at the foot of the bed as if keeping it warm for his sleeping buddy. I noticed yesterday that the cat spent as much time, maybe more if that is possible, curled up in the bend of Dad's knees. It made me feel hot just to look at it. But there is something sweet about seeing these two together. Dad awoke this morning with a list of instructions. Not a long list, just things to do that we didn't do yesterday. Get the car fixed. Call the bath lady. Check on the breathing machine. I add my own ... Change the beds. Wash the sheets. Empty the dishw asher. Check on the garden. The garden! I haven't told you about the garden. When my cousins were here the menfolk put their heads toge

"Out of clutter, find Simplicity. From discord, find Harmony. In the middle of difficulty lies Opportunity." Albert Einstein 12:30PM Dad hasn't gotten up yet. He woke up an hour ago, downed a handful of pills with half a glass of juice, ate some banana bread, remarked that it could use a lot more nuts and a little more banana couldn't hurt it, had his nails trimmed, then went back to sleep. Before closing his eyes he asked me to stay nearby. My first thought, was ugh. Of all the places to sit in this big old house the chair I'm in is perhaps the least comfortable. Yet here I am, in the middle of difficulty trying to find the opportunity. It occurs to me, if I really want to be a writer, then sitting in the quiet of this room, with my father's rhythmic breathing next to me, the dog's snoring behind me, the clock ticking off the minutes each sounding like a metronome guiding the beat of my heart, there is no better time or place to seize the opportunity to w

It is no surprise that taking care of my father is a lot like taking care of my children when they were young. Someone on NPR said the other day that life is a continuum. I don't really know what that means, but I think her point was that we are all alike, some just further down the road than others. Therefore there is a child in all of us, no matter how old. When they are just starting out, a child's natural inquisitiveness hasn't been altered by society's rules. They live in the moment. Often to the embarrassment of the adult in charge, little kids say the most outrageous things at the most inopportune times. I've found out the hard way, that the same is true of a certain old person I know. Sometimes he says things that I think are better left unsaid. Dad has been telling stories lately of his youth. The one that makes us all chuckle, no matter how many times we've heard it, is the time his mother, a very prim and proper Southern lady hosted a meeting for the

Note from ME: I know that there are hundreds of people out in the world who are doing what can only be called "God's work." Giving of their time, energy, money, love, and hope so that in some small (or large) way they will make a difference. Not for themselves, though that is most definitely a by-product of giving, but for the unfortunates who cannot do for themselves. On any of the blogs I read there are stories that will twist your heart into pieces and provoke you to dig deep into your pockets to give. I am moved by all of them and can't wait to win the lotto so I will have the opportunity to put my money where my mouth is. For now, what I can do is share some of the stories with you. Maithri Goonetilleke's tales from Swaziland are some of my favorites. To be sure they are heart wrenching but the man's spirit is like a river of cool, clean water that runs through a desert, changing lives and offering hope. "Hope is not a dream, but a way of making drea

A certain someone I know had a colonoscopy today. He is not very happy, though I'm expecting his good humor to return now that the procedure is over and there is food on his horizon! Other than the thought of some guy coming at your nether regions with a long tube and a camera, the problematic thing about this test is the prep. Once you've eaten nothing but broth and Jello for 24 hours and drunk enough "go lightly" to make you think your stomach will explode , and then the broth, Jello, go juice and what feels like the lower half of your colon come spewing out of your bottom the exam itself is a, shall I say, a piece of cake! And besides they give you enough sleep medication to knock you out to the point that you really don't care what's happening down there. I can say that because I was not the person having the procedure done. No, I am the person who up until a few years ago swore she would never consent to such indecencies, and made other people swear the