Fun on the Horizon

I am putting myself on a schedule for fun. I've not been having enough new experiences lately - enough pleasant surprises - enough newness coming into my life. So, I'm putting myself on a schedule to do something creative, interesting, new, different, etc. every day. And, once a week I'm taking at least an hour to devote to a "filling the well" activity a la Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way." I feel depleted and I need to fix that. Immediately.

The past 18 months have been difficult for my family. I do not regret a single moment I spent travelling to and from Kentucky to see Jim and the rest of the family. In some ways it seems like I'm a horrible person to be thinking about fun when losing my brother is so recent. However, my mother's words still ring in my ears - "Life is for the living." And that's exactly what it is about. Each year I make it a point to honor my mother on the anniversary of her death by doing something I love, because she taught me to do the things that make me happy.

I have no doubt that Jim, if he were here, would strongly encourage me having fun. Obviously, any event you undertake after losing a loved one is tinged with sadness, but we must move forward. Well, I must, anyway. Otherwise I sink into depression and it's hard to dig out of that hole once you're in it. Best to skirt the edge of it and avoid going there if at all possible. And it is possible for me. I need to schedule myself - keep on a pace of accomplishing things and I need to inject happiness into my life. So, that's what I do.

Today I've been working on packing away Christmas stuff. I've got 95% of it stored away. I'll try to finish tomorrow night after work. I've made a whole bunch of trips up and down the basement steps, as well as a few trips out to the shed to take the tree out. Now I have a lot of cleaning up to do - a whole lot. I never washed all the cloth I used in our window display downtown and I need to do all that. There are also lots of icicles and broken bits of ornaments to sweep up and get rid of. And, there are all the daily things I've just not felt like doing - from dealing with the piles of mail to cleaning the kitchen.

I've not been off my property today - not out of the house other than to go to the shed. Greg popped in to grab something but other than that I've not even talked to anyone today. I'm just not in a very social mood - I know that's just part of the sadness at losing Jim. But, I'm going to have to snap out of it. Otherwise, this will turn into an ugly downward spiral.

I'm not a big complainer. As a result, people often think I am much more "together" than I really am. It's like Jeanette Walls said last year - I'm a pragmatist - there's not much point in complaining or being angry or getting overly dramatic - you just get on with life because you have no other choice.

The fact that I don't complain much means people also take me for granted a lot. Just because I do things without complaint doesn't mean they're no big deal or easy. I work for a living just like everyone else. In fact, at times I'm working far more than 40 hours a week. But, because I make time to invite people over, write notes, paint in the studio, travel, or whatever it may be, people brush it off as if it's obviously very easy for me.

It's no easier for me to have people over than it is for anyone else. It takes me just as much time to pick up the house, bake a cake, wash the dishes I'm going to serve out of, make tea, or whatever I'm doing. I'm not living in an alternate universe where that doesn't take time and energy. But because I never complain about it, people take it for granted. It's nice to be appreciated, which also happens.

Those things are also part of what makes a social experience out of our society - something we know people need. So, it seems incumbent on all of us to do our part in this regard. I feel like I'm doing my fair share. But this year I'm going to be more judicious in what I offer to host. I sometimes host events because I know people would miss them if they didn't exist and no one else is stepping up to do it. So, I do them - and I enjoy them - but it takes time and energy I could be devoting to something else.

Admittedly, I am blessed to have a job that goes in cycles - sometimes I'm very busy and sometimes I'm not so frantic. However, there are stresses to my job that - because I don't complain about - people never consider.

I want to find more time for wonder in daily life. I need to marvel at newness. I need to feel a thrill of discovery. I need to devote myself to appreciating the magic of daily living. Some experts say we have about 60,000 thoughts a day. Unfortunately, about 95% of them are the same ones we had yesterday.

I need new thoughts. One of the ways I have those is with travel and other new experiences. Other ways are reading, talking to thoughtful people, and spending time in meditation.

Two years ago at this time I was in Florida at a conference hearing some interesting speakers, so that was new information. And it was a pretty place to be.



Last year at this time I was on a trip to Texas, and had spent the day at an art exhibit that featured Candy Darling, among other things.



I've been spending some time in the studio lately, which also makes me feel better. And I've been writing quite a bit - on a novel, and in my journals. Last night I made it a point to go pull a book off the shelves that is one of those "I've always meant to read..." ones lying around, and read a few pages of that before bed. That's a great thing about books - you can get new thoughts into your brain, direct out of someone else's brain.

Speaking of reading... I ran across this poem, "When Death Comes," by Mary Oliver that seems appropriate in regard to these thoughts.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
----Mary Oliver

The Christmas Tree is Down

Thanks to Cleta, in six hours today, we went from:


to



Ornaments go pretty fast...



But then there are the lights... oh the lights... the lights that make it all pretty and sparkly... the lights that grow into a massive tangled wad.



When we got to the lower levels and Cleta could really see the layer of lights on the tree I think she was shocked...



But she was a trooper. She bagged almost all of the lights.



Look closely and you'll see Cleta's tennis shoes on the right side for size comparison. The pile was about knee high. Each strand gets its own little bag.

I am so incredibly relieved to have it down. Of course, it's not packed away and stashed. But, it's down. And it only took six hours to get it done. I am so incredibly thankful for Cleta's help!

Cherryl Floyd Miller

Every once in awhile, I discover a pleasant surprise online. That happened recently when I ran across the blog of Cherryl Floyd Miller.

She had linked to one of my posts and I am flattered that a writer as talented as her has read anything I've written. I mean, the woman has been on Oprah in a segment with Maya Angelou. Have I ever mentioned my love of Maya Angelou? It's substantial. Seeing her in person was one of the highlights of my life.

It's interesting that when you see your writing out of context you're sometimes struck anew by it. What a lovely experience.

I'm so thankful to Ms. Miller for this lovely perk in the day.

Natalee Holloway

WARNING: Language

OK... I'm about to piss people off... and I know it... but I'm going to say it anyway...

I am SICK of hearing about Natalee Holloway.

She went on a trip to celebrate high school graduation and choose a place where the drinking age was 18 so she and her friends could drink. She got drunk. She hooked up with some random guy - guy who you can take one look at and know he's someone to avoid, although at 18 you may not have the experience to know that. (Parents - litle tip - don't protect your kids too much - they do need to gain some life experience.) It would appear they had sex - perhaps consensual, perhaps not. Obviously, something very bad happened.

Van der Sloot seems like a real scum bag - no question about that. And who knows what really happened. We've now got these tapes where he "confesses," but in a legal sense this is very circumstantial if I remember my one law class from college. If things really happened this way - and it may well have - then one other person knows - the guy who dumped the body.

It's a sad case. It's always horrible when someone dies - particularly in what appears a violent way. And I am truly sorry for the loss to Natalee's family and friends. And she certainly didn't "deserve" to have anything bad happen to her. But can we at least agree that she needs to accept some responsibility for being drunk and hooking up? You take a chance when you do either of those things. I'm not saying it means he had a right to do whatever he did - I'm saying if different decisions were made the situation wouldn't have existed. No one abducted her. She went willingly. If we are to believe him on all counts, she approached him. If we can't believe him on all, then we can't believe him on any. You don't get it both ways - he's telling the truth or he's not.

The reporter is saying that young people don't just die from drinking too much. That's not true. Young people die all the time from drinking too much. So do old people.

OK... I'm a person who has made a lot of decisions in my life that could well have resulted in something horrible happening to me. Just ask my friend, Leah, who thinks I take far too many unnecessary risks. I don't think I do, but that's a matter of perspective. I do know I've been fortunate many times. But I've also exercised some judgement.

For example, I would not mix mind-altering conditions and randomly hooking up -  it's not a good combo for making the best decisions. If you need to get drunk before you want to hook up with a guy, he's probably not a guy you need to be with. Also, another little tip - bars are not the best places to meet the best guys. If you have to drink yourself into oblivion in order to get past your inhibitions, then honor your inhibitions. Oh, yeah, and a guy you meet while consuming large amounts of alcohol is not likely to be the man of your dreams. Not even the man of your dreams for tonight. You don't need to be shit-faced to stomach being with the man of your dreams - that's one way you'll know.

He says his semen will be in and on her body and accurately describes her underwear. People act shocked. Please, what do you think drunk 18 year olds do on the beach in Aruba? They're not there for long discussions about theoretical physics. What do you think girls who are inviting guys they don't know to take jello shots off them and then telling them they have to buy them drinks are planning? Trust me, they're not interested in the guy's intellect. They may not be planning sex, but they're not planning NO sexual contact either.

Part of my distate for the whole situation is the "Missing White Woman Syndrome." It's not Natalee's fault that she fits the profile of the type of woman the media is interested in finding out about. But it pisses me off, anyway. Thousands of people go missing and we hear about very few of them to any large degree. Chandra Levy, JonBenet Ramsey, Laci Peterson - they're all part of our lexicon. But, if they'd been non-white, poor, or "less deserving," we wouldn't know their names.

That, ultimately, is the issue. I'm sick of hearing about Natalee because it's unfair to other families in the same situation. It's very sad for her family but it's no more sad for her mother than any other mother. I don't want us to forget the others.

Blogging will be more normal... again

I know my blogging has been a bit erratic lately. Obviously, real life has been taking a lot of energy. I'm still trying to get caught up from being gone. I'm also just physically and emotionally worn out. The last 18 months have been very difficult and I think I was just holding it together and finally crumpled - being sick for five days in Kentucky, and as of yesterday I have a new crop of drugs. But I anticipate getting back on my more normal blogging schedule.

Yesterday I spent most of the day dealing with my own good health. I woke up yesterday with these very weird feelings of being unable to breathe and just not feeling normal. I went through a whole spectrum of possibilities and by 9 a.m. knew that a doctor's appointment was in my near future. Of course, Wednesday is the day my doctor is out of the office.

But, I saw one of his colleagues who was completely uninterested in all of my other symptoms and weirdness once he listened to my lungs. He said he wasn't surprised that I felt like I couldn't breathe - that I was wheezing and needed more antibiotics, as well as some other things, to clear it all up.

Of course, I could have told the doctor last week who was filling in when my doc was gone that when they gave me 7 days of amoxicillin that that wasn't going to be sufficient. In his defense, I did call from Kentucky and he didn't get to see me in person, but I'm pretty aware of my own condition and not given to wanting antibiotics just for the thrill of spending money on them and being tied to ingesting them multiple times a day.

But, who would listen to me? I'm merely the patient. I'm just the one who knows how much I'm coughing and how "productive" it is. I'm just the one who has been dealing with my own health for 46 years. I'm just the one who knows that 7 days never clears up anything that is substantial enough for me to actually seek medical attention. I'm just the one who spent most of childhood on some sort of antibiotic, trying to kill whatever was in me, which didn't happen until I was on penicillin daily for one year. Yes, one year. After that I went from being on antibiotics every few weeks to maybe once every 2-3 years. But, yeah, what would I know? I know my own doctor listens to me - it's one of the reasons I like him so much. He should do bedside training for other doctors.

Yesterday the doctor filling in took me seriously, even though he told me nothing about my weird symptoms that caused me to go in. However, he seems to have hit the nail on the head because I feel better today than I have in weeks. I left with prescriptions for an inhaler, a round of prednisone and some heavy duty antibiotics.

Last night was the first night in a long time that I went to sleep without listening to the sound of my lungs wheezing, although I didn't know what that was. And, not surprisingly, I slept really well for many hours.

I woke up this morning realizing that a grant I had been working on earlier this month, but hadn't finished when I left for Kentucky, was due tomorrow. I've got it ready to print now and fortunately, I can drop it off in town so it will arrive before tomorrow's deadline. Thank goodness that popped into my brain. And fortunately, I felt like finishing it today.

I'm optimistic I'm on the road to recovery now.

Kansas Caucus

Tonight was the Democratic Caucus in Reno County and we had 640 people show up. This may not seem like a lot to people who live in heavily populated, heavily democratic areas, but by comparison last time we had about 80 people show up.



The local party was not at all prepared for the numbers. And, this was in the midst of a huge snow storm.

Just getting us all in the door and ready to caucus was a big job.



Of course I saw a bunch of people I know.

I had barely gotten in the door and on the side for Hillary than I heard, "Patsy, you're on the wrong side." It was Sean Buchanan, who I just adore.

He was the official designated speech person for Obama and did a great job. He is a senior at Buhler High School and this will be his first election in which he can vote. He said when he saw Obama speak at the convention last time that he just knew Obama should be the next president.

I like Obama, but I am a Hillary supporter. I think she is the best choice for this time in our history. But, I'm thrilled we have two excellent candidates. I would be proud to call either of them President and I will whole-heartedly support whichever of them wins the nomination.. And I love it that people are inspired to participate in the process.

Obama won our local caucus, as well as the state, but we're not a winner take all state - so the delegates are split. For example, we had nine delegates - Hillary got three and Barack got six.

Rumor is that our governor is on Obama's short list for a running mate. She is an incredible legislator and would make a great Vice President. I think that has probably encouraged even more support for him.

It was amazing to see so many people out tonight - particularly in light of the weather.

Cookbooks for Free

I've been perusing "Clayton's Quaker Cookbook" tonight. It was published in 1883 in San Francisco and really captures a time and place. That's one of the things I adore about cookbooks - the snapshot they give us.

I do not own a copy of this, but found it online. You, too, can have a copy - for free! You can download your own pdf.

You can find tons of other cookbooks online, too. There's a whole world of cookbooks I wasn't aware of until tonight. I'm not sure I needed more to look at.

Cookbooks vary tremendously in the amount of knowledge they assume you have. Most church cookbooks are written with cooks in mind so they don't give a lot of detailed instructions. You might find, "bake at 350 degrees until done."

Well, at this time, instructions were even more basic. In fact, there really weren't instructions - there were ingredients. I've been looking for a good sponge cake recipe - maybe this is it - 5 eggs, 2 cups sugar, 2 cups flour, 1/2 teacup cold water; mix well and bake quickly. How much easier could it be?

Cairo Illinois

Cairo, Illinois is a river town, and much of its architecture reflects that. I have always loved the bowed balconies on this building, echoing the bow of a ship. You also see lots of port hole windows around town and most of the structures are built up to allow for the flooding that was once prominent before the flood gates.



On my way back this morning I took some time to take photos because it is disappearing. The town has been in ruin for years, and now there are many empty lots where houses once stood. It seems many of them have "for sale" or "public auction" signs. I fear that soon all will be left are the nondescript, 1970s box houses, and that all the interesting architecture will be gone.



I always have this urge to "do" something but I have no idea what that might be. I'm not even sure what the problem is, much less do I know the solution.



It's a beautiful ruin in so many ways, but when it's all empty lots it will just be ruin and there will be nothing to redeem it. There's something left there, now, but I don't think another decade will leave much in its wake. Very sad.

If much of the architecture looks a little familiar to you and you can't figure out why, it's probably because it reminds you of New Orleans. Like fashion, food, and everything else, architecture styles moved up the river too.

Wooden Barn in Kentucky

I mentioned the wind storm a few nights ago peeled back parts of the barn on the farm where I grew up. I snapped a photo to share. This is the same barn Greg photographed that was on yesterday's post, just from a different angle. Obv iously, the tin roof was already partially gone, but it had a full, solid wall until a couple of days ago.

My family bought the farm in 1949 and the barn was already on it, along with the one beside Jackie and Mary Ann's house and a big tobacco barn that blew down in a wind storm in the late 50s. I, of course, don't remember that since I wasn't yet around, but when I asked Jackie if both these were here when our parents bought the farm he told me about that one, too. Apparently wind storms are hard on barns for our family.

I've been photographing old barns in Ballard County for the last few trips I've made back here. One of these days I'll get around to making a big post of some of those. Old wooden barns are disappearing and being replaced by metal monsters. I understand all the reasons for such things, but I just can't think of a barn as anything other than wood. A metal building is... well... a metal building... it could be anything... and that's part of what makes them appealing. But a barn has to be wood.

I'd like a barn... out behind the Queen Anne mansion I want. I'm a woman of contrasts, what can I say?

Home

This is the barn on the farm where I grew up. As you can see, it is starting to fall apart a bit, as are many of the old barns around this part of Kentucky. After the storm the other night, more of it is gone, as it peeled away a bit of the back part, under where the roof is missing.

Greg took this photo last week when he was here.

I also love this one he took of Terrell Road.



I will leave this weekend to head back to Kansas. I have really needed these days with my family in this place that is home. Unfortunately, I've been really sick the last three days with a respitory infection. I haven't even dressed today, which is practically unheard of for me. I'm hoping the morning brings a much perkier Patsy.

Serendipity - Vita Sackville-West

How often does Vita Sackville-West come up in your life? Well, in mine she hasn't come up at all until the last week, and her name has popped up three times.

The first time was with a reference to her telling her "best friend," Virginia Woolf, "If I, who am the most fortunate of women, can ask, 'What is life for?' how can other people live at all?" While that's not the cheeriest of notions, Sackville-West was quite well respected. She was an English novelist who wrote, "The Edwardians" in 1930 and followed it with "All Passion Spent," which is considered her greatest work. (I use the quotes on "best friend" because they were apparently more than just friends.)

Now, this is one of those times when I could try to make you believe that I'm regularly reading Sackville-West's work, when I'm not enjoying a little light reading of Anna Karenia or something. But, honestly is the better policy I believe. I didn't know who she was. I think - maybe - I'd heard her name before - but I've never read anything she wrote and don't know much about her.

What is the opposite of "well read?" Would that be "ill read?"  I want to be well-read, and know lots of things about lots of things, but in reality I'm just muddling through like everyone else.

Of course, she has a wiki. I want a wiki. Is that the modern equivelant of Who's Who? But I digress...

When Sackville-West's name kept popping up I couldn't help but think about Carl Jung and serendipity. I remember the day I learned that word. I was in grade school and no doubt reading something that was far beyond my capability to understand and ran across the word. Just as the librarian, Mrs. Alberta Rascoe, had taught me, I went and looked it up in the dictionary. Of course, I didn't get the full Jungian philosophy behind it, but I knew it was a very cool concept.

One of the most interesting experiences I've had along those lines in recent years was one day when I had volunteers and in conversation, one of them mentioned when President Harding visited Hutchinson. She was a little girl and he gave her a penny. I listened to her story and went home a couple of hours later. My then boyfriend was visiting for the weekend and I asked what he had done that day. He said he'd just been driving around, looking at things. Then he says, "Why is there a statue of Warren G. Harding outside of town?"

OK... I don't know about you, but President Warren G. Harding doesn't just come up a lot in conversation in my daily life. In fact, I'm not sure he has ever come up - not even in the town where he visited many years earlier. Then he pops up twice in less than three hours. That's pretty unusual.

The fact that Vita Sackville-West has come up multiple times in the last few days makes me think maybe I better read some of her work. Is "All Passion Spent" something one can just pick up at the local bookstore? Or should I start with "The Edwardians?" Or yet something else?

Tornado near Charleston Missouri

I swear this year the blog is not going to be about weather. At least I hope we don't have another year like last year with Greensburg and flooding and ice storms.

But, here before the end of January, I've already been involved in a "weather incident" and I'm not even home yet.

I followed Greg to Sikeston today to eat at Lamberts and then he went on to Joplin and I came home. There were tornado warnings and I heard the interstates were at a standstill due to accidents. So, I turned by Boomland (a local landmark) and headed home "the back way." I was driving along and felt the wind pushing my car to the left and looked up just in time to see light poles less than 2/10s of a mile away bending and then snapping in the tornado/straight line wind/whatever. I threw on the brakes and make a U-turn and headed back to Boomland, the only building around, although it's a big metal building. I was right near a mailbox when I made the turn and thought... hmmm... I'm not sure I'm going to clear that but I'm not taking time to back up... I'll just hit it if I have to. I didn't.



I go back to Boomland and they're not taking it seriously at all. I'm like - people - poles are snapping and going up in pretty blue flames less than half a mile away. We should take this seriously. I'm not given to being overly dramatic about tornadoes, but this was worthy of some attention.

I made it home fine, and so did Greg, but it's what I would call a close call. If I'd been two blocks further down the road, I would have been pushed off the road, into a pole and/or the live wires.



After the danger was over I drove down and took photos and measureed the distance. There were six poles broken off.

And another view of the first one pictured here...



By the way, in the distance is a correctional facility, which could explain the two law enforecement officers parked nearby talking.

Extraordinary Life

There are times when daily life gives us the chance to be extraordinary. Actually, I think every day has that potential. But, when a loved one is recently departed it seems the opportunities are vast. The trick is if we rise to meet them. I feel a failure in that regard most of the time. But, of course, every day is another opportunity.

As one settles into the new reality, knowing that life will never be the same as it was before, you have to find your way into that new reality - make your place in it - make your peace with it. In some ways the fact that I live away from my family makes it harder - I don't have that support system. In other ways it makes it easier - the new reality is not "in my face" as it is for everyone else.

Regardless of the circumstances, we all find our way to cope, to make a new world, to move into the future while being mindful of the past. For me, coping means "doing" and "scheduling." These may seem odd, but they work for me.

Greg has joked with me for many years that I can be "such a guy" about some things. One of those is that I like to "do" something when faced with anything difficult. I want to accomplish something, do something, get something done. "Done" is one of my favorite words.

Today I had the opportunity to do that. I offered to help Mattie with thank you notes. I spent the afternoon working on them and we had a hefty stack by the end of the day. We still have a couple to write, but they're largely done.


Whenever I feel myself slipping into a depression, or not functioning as I know I should, I start scheduling myself. It seems incredibly simple, but I start making appointments for myself that require me to be certain places at certain times. Somehow that structure helps me cope. It gives me a framework in which to function.

One of my ways to work up to that, when that seems too daunting, is to get things on the calendar that are far in the future. I do things like make sure the monthly appointment with the Culligan man is on the calendar. Why is that helpful? I have no idea. The Culligan man and I aren't that close - we go many months and don't even cross paths - but somehow the idea that he will come every month is reassuring. It's there on the calendar. Life is going on. Things are happening - because, look, the Culligan man is scheduled.

We humans are funny, aren't we? We have all these little tricks we play on ourselves. But somehow they help us move forward.

Another part of moving forward to me is always being rooted in the past. Greg has been here a couple of days longer than expected - he was really sick with a sinus infection and slept almost 24 hours solid. Today he felt considerably better, although not perfect. But we drove over to Bandana to visit the hardware store that is closing. They weren't open but I snapped a photo of Arivett's Grocery Store, which hasn't been a store for a very long time. I can't recall ever having been inside it, but surely I was at some point. Regardless, I love seeing these pits of the past hanging stubbornly onto a bit of our future.



I also love this house with the tin roof, just a couple of blocks away.

Things Have Changed with Funerals

Things change all the time, and that's true with funerals as well. This week, as we buried my brother, Jim, I had an upclose and personal interaction with funerals. I wasn't involved in any of the arrangements so could look at things from something of an outsider perspective. But, of course, it was a funeral for someone I loved a great deal, so I was very aware of everything.



1. Something I think is a great innovation in the last few years is the picture board. I think these really add something to the event - giving a sense of the person over a lifetime. For those close to them they're reminded of events in which they participated. For others it's a way to give a glimpse of the life they lived.

2. People don't send baskets of flowers that go to the graveside nearly as often as they used to. Instead, they send things that will last - plaques, mementos, live plants, memorials, and even cut bouquets that are meant to be taken home. I was shocked at how few things covered the grave at the end of the day, because most of the things sent were not designed for that. There's nothing wrong with that, it's just something I hadn't realized had changed so much. Each remembrance is meaningful.

3. People still think "death portraits" are odd. It is a long standing southern tradition to take death portraits. I believe it was once more common all over the country, but has remained in the south. At one time, people would dress the departed and put them in a life-like position to make a photograph. This was at a time when people had few photographs made so it was all the more important to capture that person's visage - even if it was after they had departed.. It is something I've always thought of as perfectly normal - "the norm" in fact. I have photographs of my father, my mother, my grandmother, and various other relatives. I asked Johnny if it would be OK for me take photos of Jim and he said absolutely. I didn't want to do it if it would upset him. Greg took them for me. It's generally done by a friend of the family and provided to the family.

I considered putting one on the blog the night of the funeral because for the last year or so of his life Jim read my blog faithfully, and loved it when he was on it. But, I decided it might shock people to see a death portrait so I didn't put it up. Instead I shared the photo Greg snapped of me at the graveside. He took a series of them while I was there late that day. He liked that one because it's so odd - I'm moving and my whole body has motion blur, except my face, which is clear.

4. Music at funerals now includes a variety of styles. The funeral started with "When I get where I'm Going" by Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton. It was in January of 2006 that this song started popping up in my life with amazing regularity, and continued long after it was on the charts. I would flip the station and say to myself, "the third (or second or whatever) song that comes on will be important to me..." I'm betting that song has been the seond, third or whatever song at least four dozen times since then. Considering how little I listen to the radio, that's amazing. Jim hadn't even been diagnosed at that time, and I wondered why that song kept coming up. And I had no idea it would be part of the ceremony, but there it was. Again.

5. Something that never changes, I guess, is that every call, email, note and remembrance is meaningful..I have been so touched at the number of people who've emailed or commented that read the blog, or that I know from online groups, as well as those in "real life." I'm so very thankful for people who have let me know they're thinking of me, that they're remembering us in their prayers

In real life, it was Teresa who drove from a neighboring town to my house the day it happened, to see if I was OK. It was Terry who sprung into action to help me unload the van for the trip. It was Greg and Mark who started making arrangements to come to the funeral. And Greg is still here with me. I need him at the moment. I need that bit of "normal life" in my life here. Greg's mom loaned him her car for the trip, and I'm so appreciative of such gestures. He will leave soon to go back and I'm not ready for that. But, I'll just have to get ready.

All of us can do whatever we have to do - but it was easier having Greg on one side of me and Mark on the other during the funeral. They were here at my mom's funeral, too. It is at times like this that you know these are people you can depend on - they will always come through for you. I'm thankful. So very thankful for that.

When you're grieving you want to feel like the world understands your sorrow. It seems obscene to you that the world is continuing to turn, that people are going on about their lives, and yet you know it's essential. As Mama used to say, "Life is for the living."

It just takes some time to feel like being one of the living again.

---------------------------------------

When I Get Where I'm Going
Artist/Band: Brad Paisley - with Dolly Parton

When I get where I'm going
On the far side of the sky
The first thing that I'm gonna do
Is spread my wings and fly

I'm gonna land beside a lion
And run my fingers through his mane
Or I might find out what it's like
To ride a drop of rain

(Chorus:)
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
I will shed the sins and struggles
I have carried all these years
And I'll leave my heart wide open
I will love and have no fear
Yeah when I get where I'm going
Don't cry for me down here

I'm gonna walk with my grand daddy
And he'll match me step for step
And I'll tell him how I missed him
Every minute since he left
Then I'll hug his neck

(Chorus)

So much pain and so much darkness
In this world we stumble through
All these questions I can't answer
So much work to do

But when I get where I'm going
And I see my maker's face
I'll stand forever in the light
Of his amazing grace
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
Hallelujah
I will love and have no fear
When I get where I'm going
Yeah when I get where I'm going

Graveside

Jimmy Ray Terrell Funeral Arrangements

Thank you to everyone who has expressed condolences for my family. Your thoughts and prayers are appreciated. A number of people asked about arrangements and I said I would post them here for family and friends.

Morrow Funeral Home, 376 W Kentucky Dr (Highway 60), LaCenter Kentucky

Visitation - Tuesday evening beginning at 5 p.m.
Funeral - Wednesday afternoon at 2

Burial following at Barlow, Kentucky cemetary

If anyone wants to send a card:

Mattie Terrell
PO Box 625
La Center KY 42056

Jackie and Mary Ann Terrell

Patsy Terrell

Jimmy Ray Terrell

Jimmy Ray Terrell
April 25, 1941 - January 19, 2008

My brother, Jim, died at home in LaCenter Kentucky this morning
after a battle with lung cancer.

His wife Mattie, and granddaughter Chrissy, were with him.

Funeral will be at Morrow Funeral Home in LaCenter Kentucky.
Arrangements are pending at this time.

(photo taken April 6, 2007)

Homeward Bound

"It doesn't matter where you live today - trailer, apartment, or a house. You may be rooming in a motel or seeking santuary in a safe house halfway between your past and your future. You may even be without a roof to call your own, camping out on a friend's couch or community cot; held hostage in a palace or pitching a tent on the
dark side of the moon. It doesn't matter. If you're reading this, you're homeward bound."
Sarah Ban Breathnach in "Something More"

I love this quote. It speaks so much about our need for home - for a place to belong. Her point is that we are always thinking about home, and going there, wherever that may be.

I love my house, but this is not my dream house. I will one day live in a different kind of house - something in the Queen Anne style, which is my favorite. Those "painted lady" houses in San Francisco are Queen Anne style houses. I love the asymmetrical nature of these large houses, with their gingerbread, bay windows and stained glass. I know they're not "practical," but I love them. So, for me, that is where I'm headed ... my homeward bound destination.

Isn't it lovely that we have the ability to imagine ourselves in another place, another home, another life?

I'm in the process of tidying a lot of things around my current house. I've gone on another cleaning binge. You'd think, considering the fact that these pop up at least a couple of times a year, that my house would be clean. But, bear in mind that for all but the last few years of my life I have accumulated. Now I'm in the process of divesting.

About 10 years ago I - for the first time - removed things from my house. I had every piece of clothing I'd ever owned, unless it was completely worn out. Then, due to the breakup of a relationship, and reclaiming my space, I decided to get rid of clothes I wasn't wearing. I took 29 big garbage bags full of clothes to the Salvation Army. Yes, 29 bags. I, literally, had every item of clothing I'd ever owned since leaving home for college at 17. You can accumulate a lot of stuff in nearly 20 years.

That broke the dam for me and it has never been very difficult for me to get rid of clothes since then. I'm pretty good at only keeping around what I'm wearing. However, I will keep things I'm only wearing occcasionally.

Sometime over the holiday break I had the thought that I wanted to get rid of things I wasn't wearing regularly, or that I didn't otherwise have a real reason to keep. So the last couple of days I've been doing that. I have three bags of clothes and I'm gathering up one of shoes. I have some wonderful shoes, but I don't forsee me wearing anything but Birks - or other really good shoes - in the near future. So, someone else should be getting some use out of them, there's absolutely no point in them sitting in the closet rotting when someone could be using them.

I'm also donating a really nice swing coat. It's black and in great shape, with a little faux fur collar. But, I bet I haven't worn it but once in two years. That's just not sufficient for me to be storing it - particuarly not when someone else could be getting use out of it. I just got this nice new long coat that I really love, and while the one I'm giving away is dressier, on the rare occasion I need such a thing the new one will suffice.

Anyway, I'm taking it all to Goodwill. At least in Hutchinson, Goodwill is where people go for the "nicer" clothes. And this is nice stuff. I know I could probably sell it at a garage sale and get a few bucks, but I'd rather just get it out of my house.

The upstairs floor of my house has been in disarray for far too long, so it's good I'm getting a handle on it. And the place I'm starting is with clothes. I don't even like buying clothes and I have too many clothes. How do people who are are serious shoppers manage?

(Photo is of detail on a home in Cairo, Illinois, taken Dec. 24, 2007, at twilight.)

Chocolate, Coats and Conversations

I've been on a Hot Chocolate binge lately. Not the stuff you get in a package - real hot chocolate. Milk warmed on the stove, Guittard cocoa and sugar, whipped with my favorite little whisk that works just perfectly for a cup of cocoa. Tonight I tossed in some marshmallows, but I think maybe they distract from the perfect chocolately goodness.

We had snow last night, and still have a little left. What we have plenty of is cold weather.

One of my Christmas presents from Mary Ann and Jackie was a new winter coat. I decided I wanted to be warm this winter and picked out a new coat. I don't think I've worn anything other than jackets in years. However, I'm now reminded that there's a world of difference in how warm you are in a long coat. I'm so very toasty in it. And mighty happy about that today.

I had lunch with Teresa today, which was nice. I don't think we've had lunch since October, so it was overdue. We've both had a lot going on the last few months, and not seen each other as much as usual.

I've been thinking a lot lately about friendships. I need to find more friends who want to connect on meaningful levels. Trish is about the only person I've seen on a really regular basis lately. We have great, thoughtful conversations. And those grow out of a familiarity that comes from seeing each other regularly and sharing our lives. We both value that, and take care to create opportunity for it. I need more of that in my life.

Ad Hoc Book Club

I'm creating an Ad Hoc Book Club Group. What is that? Well, good question. It doesn't exist yet, but will shortly.

I used to be part of a book club and while I enjoyed many things about it, I just didn't like the monthly structure - particuarly if I didn't like the book and didn't really read it. Eventually it disbanded - mainly because Tim, the one person who consistently read the book, moved to North Carolina. Tim was one of those guys who is so smart that you can tell he just thinks differently than the rest of us. I love that. And he always had something interesting to say about whatever we were reading. Frankly, we just fell apart without him. SOMEONE has to be reading the book in a book club! That's something we discovered. Hey - all of life is a learning experience. (One of the cool things about blogging is I went and looked up Tim online. I didn't know he had left NC. I would have tried to see him when I was his area if I'd known. Maybe next time.)

Anyway... so... the book club ended. But, I have missed talking about books with people.

A few months ago the idea crossed my mind of an ad hoc group - just whenever there's a book that's worth discussing you invite a few people to gather and do just that. So, a few days ago I emailed some friends and aquaintances and suggested that we gather to talk about Elizabeth Gilbert's book, "Eat, Pray. Love." I read this a while ago and really loved it.

In February or March I'll pick a date and whoever can and wants to will gather at my house and we'll talk about it. I'm not sure how this will all work, but we'll see.

If you're in the area and want to join us on this as yet undetermined date, drop me an email and let me know. In the meantime, regardless of where you are, I do recommend the book. It's a very good read.

Taking the High Road, or Being a Push Over

I'm wrestling today with a question I often struggle with - am I taking the high road, or am I being a push over?

A number of non-profits in town got an email a couple of days ago that a business was donating some furniture, and a list of what was available. I called late yesterday and said I'd like to have chairs and bookcases that were not spoken for. They said great. Today they said four chairs were spoken for and I could have the rest. And that all three bookcases were available for me as well. Fabulous!

So, I loaded the van with the chairs I could take and left some there, as well as the bookcases to get on another trip. When I returned, another organization had taken one of the book cases, and had one of the remaining chairs sitting with their stuff.

So... now... what to do? The business is just doing something kind. I didn't want to make an issue and put them in a difficult position. And, for all I know, the woman who was just told by her boss on the phone that I was getting all the bookcases and all but four of the chairs, told the organization something different.

Maybe it was just all a big misunderstanding. Maybe the person in charge gave it to them even though it had been promised to me. Whatever, it just worked out the way it worked out. And I'm very thankful for the things I got. Veeeeery thankful.

Did I desperately need the things? No. But I did have a specific purpose for them or I wouldn't have asked for them and wouldn't have shown up to get them.

I think what really bugs me is that the only reason they even wanted more once they saw it was that this was really nice furniture. If it hadn't been nice stuff they wouldn't have bothered with it. But, since it was nice they suddenly wanted more than they had spoken for. If it had been the regular stuff - not top of the line - they wouldn't have wanted any more than they had asked for.

I finally just went in and asked which of their chairs they had loaded and which of what they had spoken for was still there because one of those was the one I couldn't take in my first trip and I wanted to get it now. When they had first arrived, there were two different kinds of chairs and I let them pick which they wanted, and took what was left. I was more than fair with them, but I guess they didn't feel a need to return the favor.

So, I took the chair - which I needed more than the bookcase, although it would have been awfully nice to have matching bookcases - and didn't make an issue of the bookcase. I wasn't going to make a scene about it and put the business person in an awkward position, although it may have been her mistake. Of course, if the other organization hadn't been so grabby because it was nicer stuff than anticipated it wouldn't have been an issue at all.

Did I take the high road? Or was I a push over? I don't know. I know I'm not going to behave that way myself. I was offered some tables that someone had asked for and I said, "that wasn't me who asked about them" because I didn't want to take someone else's things. I'm going to be grateful for the kindness extended to me and let this be a lesson for the future.

I'm a little sore. I loaded all of that by myself - someone held a door open for me twice - otherwise I did it all. I hauled chairs into my office on the second floor, and my van is full of more chairs and two bookcases. I'm soooooooo thankful to have it. It will make my life much easier at the office. But I'm going to suck down some ibuprofen before bed - just in case I feel the afternoon a bit more when I wake up than I do now. And maybe in my dreams I'll work out the answer to the question of was I taking the high road, or being a push over.

Writer's Strike

I am a big supporter of the Writer's Strike.

Admittedly, I'm tickled to have my Letterman and Ferguson shows new again. But, people do not appreciate writers enough. Apparently not even in a business that is so dependent on them.

People always think anyone can write. They can't. It's a skill, a talent, a gift, a job. People deserve to be paid for work - a fair wage.

The writers, obviously, understand that traditional broadcasting is likely to be replaced by newer media. I watch shows online about 20% of the time I'd guess. And when I get a better monitor that will probably increase.

This is hilarious... but not work safe if you work in a conservative place.

Target Marketing

There's this idea in marketing that you need to target the people who would be interested in your product or service, and not waste your money and time with those who would never buy what you're offering. That's what they mean when they talk about targeted marketing.

Direct mail is a very expensive way to market, but if your audience is really targeted, it can be money well spent.

Today I got something that is so not targeted it's almost funny, except that I know people wasted money. I got a direct mail piece for carpet cleaning. I don't own a single scrap of carpet. I used the carpet that was in my house for drop cloth when I painted and then it was all gone.

Of course, there's no way to know this and there is the real problem with marketing. PT Barnun was right - half of your advertising money is wasted - you just don't know which half. And anybody who tells you they can tell you which half is blowing smoke up your you-know-what. Some marketing expert probably told them to buy my name from a list.

McVities HobNobs

There are a few things for which I have an unnatural love. One of them is McVitie's HobNobs - Nobbly, Oaty Biscuits.

When I was in England I ate these practically every day. They were plentiful there, readily available. I loved them. I called the company after I got back and tried to find a way to lay my hands on them in the US. At the time, that was not to be done.

So, imagine my delight when I was at the World Food Market in Paducah the day after Christmas and spotted them on the shelf. I bought a package and have been saving them as a treat. Do you know how much it takes to distract me from Christmas things on Dec. 26? It's a feat.

Today is the day I get a treat.

And, how should one enjoy HobNobs? With tea in one's favorite cup from England, of course. I bought this mug in Bath and it remains one of my very favorite mugs - it fits my hand well, I like the shape of it, and I enjoy feeling the relief on the front. I drink from it on a regular basis. But this is the first time I've gotten to enjoy HobNobs while doing so.

The question you might be asking is why do I deserve a treat. Well, because I've been a good girl. I have been hauling Christmas stuff to the basement today. I've undecorated another small tree.

And, I also did something else today that is deserving of a treat. I hauled a big bag of stuff to Salvation Army. That, alone, is worth a treat. But, in the bag were some things that reminded me of old boyfriends that I've been hanging onto for a very long time. I just decided I didn't need to start a new year with any of those things hanging around. They were things that were really difficult to part with for a variety of reasons. But, today was the day.

So, like fat people everywhere who use food for rewards, I'm now enjoying a treat of food. Dammit. Nothing is ever simple, is it? Oh well... I think I'll have another HobNob and forget about that part and just go back to the patting myself on the back part.

Saturdays are for... work

I spent all day and part of the night at the office, but I got a lot done. I did go to Roys for lunch and then just stopped at the office instead of coming back home. I stayed there until time for dinner when I met Sondra at Skaets. Then I went back to the office and worked until about 10:30 tonight.

It was a good thing I was at the office because I had a call this afternoon that was a gentleman who was having a mental health crisis. I would have gotten the call, anyway, because I had the phone transferred to my cell phone, as I usually do when I'm not in the office, including nights and weekends. I'm not always available, but if I am, I answer the phone and help people if I can. This gentleman was calling from a neighboring town - so it was good I was at the office where I have access to materials that covered that area because I don't know all that off the top of my head. I'm not a clinician, so I never offer anything resembling counseling, but I can tell people where to get help. Often people just have no idea what to do. If I hadn't answered, this guy's next call was going to be to the police to see if they would lock him up.

One thing I've learned since having this job is that the fact I wake up in the morning perceiving the world the same way I did the day before is a blessing never to be taken for granted. People suffer. I mean, they suffer. And it's not because they want to suffer - their brains just don't see the world the same way you and I do. People with psychizophrenia, which this guy had been diagnosed with, suffer. There is no other way to put it. As you lay your head down tonight, say a prayer of thanksgiving you've gone through the day without having to constantly struggle to determine what is reality. While you're at it, say a prayer of entreatment that you'll be so lucky to have another day like that tomorrow.

I also got a ton of little piddly errands done today on the way to and from lunch and dinner - mail sent, overdue library books returned (I kind of rent books from there, albeit cheaply), bills paid, etc. How can there always be errands? When I was a kid and people on TV shows would be talking about errands I couldn't imagine what they had to do. They were always talking about dry cleaning and I thought... well... geez... I just won't have dry cleaning done. I don't. But it still seems like I've always got a list of things that need to be done that keep getting written onto the next day's list.

Needless to say, I didn't work on the Christmas tree. It's probably safe until sometime in February because I've got a lot of things on the schedule in the next three weeks.

But, tonight I was feeling very festive, so it's a good thing it was still there to be enjoyed. I've been wrapping presents for next year. Yes, that's right, some 2008 Christmas presents are purchased and wrapped. I just couldn't wait to experiment with the wrapping paper theme for this year. I know it's a little silly, but it makes me happy and I'm a big proponet of finding happiness in anyway you can - from the simplest of things to huge things. I am so thankful I'm healthy and have the energy for such things.

Well, time for me to get some rest. I need to have another productive day tomorrow, too. And, it is 2:39 a.m. Frankly, it's time for anyone who doesn't work nights to get some rest.

Blue Eyes

I was reading tonight about a study done in Norway that showed blue eyed men have a preference for blue eyed women. Why? Because if the blue eyed woman produces a child that isn't blue eyed then the blue eyed man knows he ain't the baby daddy.

Remember that monk with his peas? Yup. It's all about Mendel. Blue eyes are recessive. Since it requires two recessive genes to produce blue eyes, if both parents are blue eyed then baby has be to blue eyed as well - provided baby is the product of that mama and that daddy. If baby shows up with brown eyes you know mama been messin' around.

This only works with blue eyes - not parents of other colored eyes. Brown eyed parents can produce blue eyed children, because they can be carrying the recessive blue eyed gene, but blue eyed parents are only going to produce blue eyed babies.

It's been speculated that this is why babies - particularly caucasian - are generally born with blue eyes and their true color doesn't show until about age three. It may well be an adaptive trait to keep both parents around during those early years when baby needs more support to survive.

We're interesting, huh?

This made me think about the men I've known, and other than two exceptions, I think everyone I've dated has been blue eyed. I haven't produced any children, and I'm happy to say that if I had there would not have been a need for Maury to tell me who the father was. But it's interesting that that has worked out that way in my life nonetheless.

It also caused me to think about one former boyfriend mentioning how he specifically liked women with blue eyes. Maybe he just instinctively knew this. Or maybe he read the study before I did.

This also made me think about my parents. My mom had blue eyes... but I can't remember what color my dad's eyes were. Brown, I think. It's sad I can't remember, but I can't. It's only blue eyed men who show a strong preference on eye color in a mate - blue, of course.

Not Wanting to Let Go

I am really not wanting to let go of my Christmas tree. I've been trying to convince myself to take it down but a part of me keeps saying... but... what if...

Well, that's foolish... you can always make a case for what if. But I don't want to leave it up indefinitely either. But it's just so darned pretty this year... But it's big and bulky...

Besides, I really want to feel some control in my life and controlling my environment seems one way to trick myself into feeling like I have some. I realize it's all just a psychological trick. But, hey, it works for me sometimes.

The only way I know to get control - or some ilusion of is - is through action. I've got so many post it notes tacked up around my computer that the shear weight of them is causing them to let go and fall from the stack. Each one has a note about something I need to do. I like the satisfaction of tossing them as I get things done.

The problem with that system, as well as the list system, is that "call Sue" takes up the same amount of space as "write grant." One can be done in a few minutes and one takes many hours. But both need to be done.

I'm trying to get some control in various parts of the house. I've packed up quite a bit of the Christmas stuff. I was thrilled to discover tomorrow is recycling day. It's only every other week and I can't keep track. Thank goodness I can get that stuff out of the house. It's already at the curb. Now, if people will just leave it alone, all the better.

People like to go through my trash and recycling. I don't know what I have that's so darned interesting, but it creeps me out. Big time. Really creeps me out. I don't want people going through my trash. I know. It's trash. I'm throwing it out. Why do I care? I don't know, but I do. I think because it's creepy. I mean I'm just one person - I don't drink enough pop that you're going to get rich from the cans. And did I mention it creeps me out?

OK... I couldn't resist more tree pix tonight...

The one above is of a glass icicle I bought in 1990 on a trip to Salt Lake City.

This little glass box was a gift from Virginia at Creative Sisterhood in 2005.



Jackie and Kim brought me this from their honeymoon...



I got this in Boston on a trip with my friend, Fran...



This angel was a gift from my mom. My mom loved birthstone things and this angel is in a blue dress, holding a blue stone - my birthstone is blue topaz.



I picked up some of these little birds in Guatemala in 1999...



This was from Canada in the fall of 2006



This angel came from the Ten Thousand Villages - Et. Cetera shops many, many, many years ago. These are some of my first ornaments.



I don't recall where I picked up this little snowman icicle...



I have a few of these little baby Jesus ornaments I got in Rome that I nestle in the tree in various spots. They're one of my favorites.

What I'm looking for

I've been enjoying the music of Brendan Benson lately.

I particularly love the lyrics to "What I'm Looking For." The first and last verses particularly speak to me. Truly... I don't know what I'm looking for but I can't stop looking.

What I'm Looking For
Brendan Benson

Well, I don't know what I'm looking for
But I know that I just want to look some more
And I won't be satisfied
'Til there's nothing left that I haven't tried
For some people it's an easy choice
But for me there's a devil and an angel's voice
Well, I don't know what I'm looking for
But I know that I just want to look some more

Well, I don't know what I'm living for
But I know that I just want to live some more
And you hear it from the strangers and you hear it from friends
That love never dies and love never ends
And I don't want to argue, no I don't want to fight
'Cause you're always wrong and I'm always right
Well, I don't know what I'm living for
But I know that I just want to live some more

I used to be involved and I felt like a king
Now I've lost it all and I don't feel a thing
I may never grow up, I may never give in
And I blame this world that I live in
I visit hell on a daily basis
And I see the sadness in all your faces
I've got friends who are married and their lives seem complete
And here I am still stumbling down a darkened street

And I act like a child and I'm insecure
And I'm filled with doubt and I'm immature
Sometimes it creeps up on me
And before I know it I'm lost at sea
But no matter how far I roam
I always find my way back home
But I don't know what I've been waiting for
But I know that I don't want to wait anymore