Embrace The Suck

"Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn." Elizabeth Lawrence As the Frankenstorm began its way up the coast of Florida, the skies turned gray. The wind whipped  up ocean waves. People were shooed off the beach. But football fans paid the weather no mind. There was partying in RV City to be done.   Johnson predicted there would be several downed trees in our neighborhood. Not willing to take even the smallest chance of possible damage, Sweetie parked the Lincoln which had just come home from the repair shop on the side of the house that has no trees anywhere around. That side of the house also has no driveway.  I sent up some prayers of gratitude for having the foresight to cut our big oaks down.  The yard looks barren,  but I didn't have to worry about a tree falling on the roof. Maybe we were just too far inland, or maybe the storm lacked the ferocity that was predicted. There was enough wind to make the flags stand ...

Remember when you were a kid and you added half a year to your age to make you sound older. I noticed on a recent visit to the ER with a friend. I'm 91 and a half she told the intake person.  I think when you've lived to be in your 90s you can add whatever you want! I'm over 60 and a half. Next Tuesday is the 11th anniversary of my mother's death. I can't tell you why but I miss her like crazy today. I feel like I'm about 2. You know how toddlers are shy and they stand behind their mom's legs, holding on tight to her pants of skirt and peek around to see. I had that vision of myself last night. Then I remembered mom isn't there to hold on to.  Talk about being sad and scared. In my Picking Up The Pieces grief class I learned it's okay to feel what I feel and not make excuses for it. I learned grief waits deep in your bones. I learned how to ground myself. I learned to self-care (well I sort of learned - that's an on-going practice.) So for ...

She draws, I stitch. She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law,  Nancy ,  and I am  Jeanne , the woman who flat-out loves her. Hey look everybody! Wholly Jeanne featured ME as one of her envoys to get the word out about the art project she's doing with her develomentally challenged sister-in-law, Nancy. Check it out, here. First Nancy draws (in her favorite color purple) then Jeanne embroiders the design on small white cloths. Art, I think, is in the eye of the beholder. In Nancy's case, there is no filter. Her designs are free from personal critique.  When you see them you can almost feel her joie de vivre. And I've got to say that as anxious as I felt at times in Seattle, when I was photographing drawing #113 it kind of took me out of my scared self. Wholly Jeanne and I quickly became blog buddies. I think it was the first time she responded to me as "Sugar." I can't hear the sweetness of her southern drawl, but I always feel like ...

In the ordinary-ness of an autumn afternoon, I sat in the car listening to a BBC program aired on NPR.   The radio was a buzz with the story of Malala. Since I tuned in late, I didn't know what they were talking about. Only that something horrific had happened to a young girl who has been blogging about schools for girls in Pakistan since she was 11. Malala. Probably in the Pakistani language that name has some special meaning. I love the sound of it. It reminds me of a bird song, or maybe a fruit bearing tree. Now that I know the tragic story, how she and two others were gunned down by the Taliban and left for dead, I wonder if Malala might mean brave or beautiful. For that is certainly how I see her. In church last night I sent up prayers to Divine One for Malala's complete recovery. But more than that, I prayed for all women and girls who are denied basic human rights and live in fear. And especially ones, like Malala, who step out of their fear to say "enough is en...

There's been a new twist in my emotional roller coaster - anxiety. It feels like when you are slow chugging up the slope, you know what's coming and your body is preparing to be lurched forward in a death defying downhill run. Every nerve is on edge. Your brain is sending adrenaline throughout the body, your eyes are looking for anyway out, you're so scared you think jumping from a moving train might be better than the fall. My doctor today called it being on "hyper alert." Our mind/body's way of protecting us from saber tooth tigers.  Some people are thrilled by an adrenaline rush. It makes me want to puke. It's not the first time I've felt like this. But I don't remember it lasting quite as long. Before seeing my doc, I looked through a notebook I keep in my purse. I found some notes I took at the beginning of the year at a John Edwards (of psychic fame) show. "The first year of grief," he said, "is the coasting year."  ...