Room To Relax

The most chaotic and hectic part of the room project is done. The major overhaul complete. We've got all our stuff back into the room and most of the messes we made in the rest of the house cleaned up. There is a lot of fine tuning left to do. Major and minor sorting projects. Some juggling around of items as we experiment with new locations for them and see how it fits with our daily routines.

Ed's folks got home this afternoon unexpectedly. They weren't planning to arrive before tomorrow sometime or even Tuesday. They pulled in at 4:30. Rumors of snow expected in the passes overnight changed their plans. The rumors must have been based on something solid though because it snowed here for a couple hours this evening.

Ed and I were still several hours out from getting to the stage where we had put the rest of the house back into the order his folks had left it. We had to pick up the pace of the work to double or triple time which left no time for thoughtful appraisal of where something should go or whether it should be kept at all. Pretty much Ed was bringing stuff from the rest of the house willy-nilly and dumping it on the bed while I tried to put it away somehow as fast as he was bringing it. No more time to pause and take pictures of the progress. No time to hunt for the power cord for the boom box. Or the USB cord for my camera. Hence no pictures for this post yet. As I'd hoped.

Plus we had to leash Merlin in our room again and work around him and his 'help'.

But between us we got the living room, hallway, laundry room and bathroom put back in order and swept or vacced and the garbage taken outside. I started the last load of laundry which i was holding back to wait on the cleaning rags. I lost count but I think that was the twelfth load since Tuesday.

By six we were able to take a break. Only the kitchen still needed attention but I decided to leave it until after dinner which Ed was going to prepare for us. His folks had eaten before they got home. I took advantage of the lull to get a shower and shampoo.

Then we watched America's Funniest Videos together for the first time on the 'new' TV we inherited (or rather the guest room inherited) after his folks put in the 42 inch flat screen in the living room last month. Ed had gone to the major effort to switch out the TVs last Sunday just so he could watch AFV on the 'new' one only to discover it wasn't on last week. But at least that was one part of the project that was already done before Tuesday.

While Ed was cooking, I visited with his folks and played with Merlin. Ed's Dad got Merlin a new toy he saw being demonstrated in a store over on the coast. It is a battery operated ball.! What will they think of next. But the ball quivers and sets itself in motion so if laid on the floor it will roll until it bumps into something and then it will change directions and roll elsewhere. You can attach a ribbon on it which will swish like a tail. And the topper is putting it in a paper bag which then acts like there is something alive inside.

I wish I could have gotten video of Merlin encountering it. Everybody thinks he isn't interested but I know him better than that. I know that one of his things is to pretend to not be paying attention. He acts all Cool McKool and looks away or walks away only to suddenly turn and swipe or pounce or chase etc. At one point he stood and stared everywhere except at the quivering paper bag about the size of a lunch bag until it had been sitting in one spot quivering for a full minute or more. That was when he must have decided it was safe enough to approach it. He got his nose on it and the thing chose that moment to jump a quarter inch or so and it slapped his nose.

Maybe it was his nose touching the bag that triggered it's little hop action. I don't know but it was funny to me to watch him interact with it. After it slapped him, he turned his back and walked away and the bag followed him. Now I'm sure that was a coincidence but it was the funniest thing to see because for a split second he lost his cool. He didn't run or jump or swipe or hiss or get go all big-tailed or anything blatant. He just kinda twitched his tail in a way I knew meant he was discombobulated. Surprised at least. Possibly irritated and nervous.

Anyway. Ed called me to dinner about nine just as he folks were heading to bed so we got to relax over our meal together. Then Ed headed to bed and I got cracking on the kitchen. I was back in the room by quarter to eleven, It felt like coming home.

It took six days but it was so worth it. I am sooooo tired but it feels soooo good.

I would not blush to entertain a guest in this room right now. Though there is room for only two people and a cat to sit on the foot of the bed. Still it feels like home for the first time since we moved into it six years four months ago.

I've just put in six ten to twelve hour days on this project and I think I have earned a day to relax and soak up the feeling of success and enjoy just hanging in my 'new' room.

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Sunday Serenity #38

print for sale at art.com

This is the picture of serenity for me. It is doubly affecting for me because this illustration by Jessie Wilcox-Smith was in my childhood copy of Robert Louis Steven's A Child's Garden of Verses. One of my most favorite books in all my life. As much because of the illustrations as the playful word play of the poems.

I am looking forward to spending most of a day doing just this.

But it won't be this Sunday. I've still got hours of work left to get all of our stuff out of the living room, hallway, kitchen, bathroom, laundry room and porch and back into our room. This project of reorganizing our room began on New Year's day just minutes after Ed's folks backed out of the driveway to begin their week long vacation on the coast. I've worked at it for twelve hours or more per day since Tuesday.

I can nearly see the end. Our room has taken on the sense of a home and a sanctuary for the first time since we moved into it in late August of 2001.

I can't wait to spend several relaxing hours enjoying the new ambiance.

Maybe by Monday morning.

Join us for a moment of serenity.

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Snippetless Friday

Sorry, but I just can't get a snippet prepared today. Nor can I really afford the time for visiting snippets this weekend. I've still got a long way to go to get our room put back together. Today was the third day of the project and I did get to start putting things back in the room today but it took me two days to pull it all out and now I've got only two more days before Ed's folks get back home to get ALL of our stuff out of the living room, kitchen, bathroom, laundry room and porch.

I've been taking pictures all along so there will probably be illustrated posts about it next week.

Today was a series of small catastrophes intermixed with triumphs. I discovered about twenty minutes after Ed left for work this morning that the boards he got for the 'bench' to elevate the bookcases above the mattress level were too narrow for one of the bookcases--a metal frame thing with spindly legs that were going to straddle the board. Not structurally sound, as Ed would say.

But I didn't panic because I figured it was just as well there was a built-in stopping point for me this morning since I had not slept last night at all. When I finished visiting TT after posting mine in the wee hours this morning, I realized that Ed would be getting up in less than an hour and not only did it seem unfair to disturb his last hour of sleep but I liked the idea of getting back to work for at least the time he was still home.

So I went ahead with the plan, putting the cinder blocks and planks in place so I could put the one bookcase up on it. But first I had to put two other bookcases up on top of the entertainment center so I could move the bed away from the wall. While doing that I did something that cased the TV to tip forward and almost out of the shelf it sat on. Luckily I was standing directly in front of it. But it was an iffy few seconds to a full minute before I was sure it wasn't going to fall out if I moved away.

Then while moving the bed, which is a box springs and mattress on a Hollywood frame, I discovered that the boxsprings were not sitting solid in the frame but one side was riding over the rim of the metal. I tried a number of things and was beginning to despair that there was nothing I could do but wait for Ed to get home from work. I just didn't have the strength in my arms or hands and had several close calls with smashing my fingers. Then I decided to try getting better leverage from the head of the bed by moving it away from the wall until I could climb in behind it and sit with my legs under the bed while lifting and jiggling the boxspring from side to side and using my toes to guide it. It was all hit and miss and I had visions of the board on the underside of the boxspring coming down on my knee or shins or fingers and me having being stuck there until Ed got home after five.

But it finally paid off and the boxprings fell into place.

So it wasn't all in my head that sensation of falling or of feeling as though I was about to roll down a hill every time I lay down in that bed since we installed it last June.

After that things went fairly smoothly with the room though Merlin did get out the door during one of my treks out onto the porch. But he was brought up short by the gusts of face-slapping rain, which made him easy to catch. We, here in Phoenix OR, were on the northern edge of that storm that hit California today. We lost power several time between five and seven this morning but in all but one case it was only for seconds. The first time it was for several minutes. That first time caught me by surprise as I was laying on the floor in the bedroom shining a flashlight under the bed and pulling items out and shoving them behind me without looking. I heard the TV go off and I thought Merlin might have stepped on the remote but when I pulled my head out from under the bed where it was lit up by the flashlight I found the room pitch black. Which meant there was no light coming in from outside either.

Oh, oh. I said aloud as my first thought was of my laptop sitting out in the living room. I struggled out from under the bed and over and around the stuff. Out in the living room Ed was sitting in front of the PC in the dark with his arms folded over his chest. I could just about hear the wheels turning. How was he going to get ready for work with no electricity? He wouldn't have let it stop him but it would have been a significant challenge in the best of times but at this particular time with none of the things he needed in their usual locations. Well. It wasn't going to be easy. But it didn't become an issue. Just as I got hibernation initiated on my laptop, the lights came back on.

During one of the trips out onto the porch for a plank for the 'bench' I discovered that the lid of the large garbage can holding aluminum cans come off and blown across the porch and several dozen soda and beer cans were scattered ad being blown about by the wind. I had to go pick them up and get that lid back on and fastened down with the rain slapping my face and the set porch carpet soaking my stocking feet.

At least Merlin had the good sense to show no interest in trying to get out the door time. But right after I came in Sweetie, my in-laws Austrailian Shepard/ Border Collie insisted she HAD to go out. I let her into the back yard and when she barked for reentry a couple minutes later, I shut the door to the hall before opening the back door. I stood ready with a bath towel and insisted on rubbing her down before letting her out to the front room where she would have joyed in shaking all that water off all over my books!

By ten-thirty I had reached the point where I could go no further without that second bookcase in place. I was desperate to lay down. But I wanted to clean up the kitchen and wash the dishes before I did so. I hated the thought of waking to that chore left undone. After that, I needed to eat something. By the time I did lay down near one the desperate need for sleep had passed. I made myself lay down anyway. There was only four hours before the earliest I could expect Ed. I good nap I thought. But I could not doze off. My mind just raced as though running from room to room and corner to corner, thinking of this and that item and how best to set up for this or that regular task, planning for the most convenient new homes for each item I remembered handling in the last two days. I was still awake when Ed got home at four-thirty.

Shortly after that I discovered the water was off. It was off for over an hour.

Ed went back to Home Depot for another plank of the correct width. But we both decided we were too weary to do any more on this project today. I'm hoping to have everything but the clothes and the HABA (Health and Beauty Aids) back in the room by tomorrow afternoon. At which point the second major winnowing of the volume of stuff will commence. The first having occurred as I was pulling things out of the room.

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Thursday Thirteen #67

I had hoped to have this ready to post earlier in the day. Now it will probably be after midnight before I even have it ready to launch. When I realized last week that TT was going to fall on My Mother's birthday, I began to plan this. I couldn't bear to give up the idea but the project which was the subject of yesterday's post had to take priority. I couldn't afford the time for this until the room became unavailable when Ed went to bed.

Thirteen Pictures of My Mother, Maurine Myers Coon, born January 3, 1932. Happy Birthday Mom.

1. Maurine and twin, Margaret, about nine months. Held by Daddy's sister, Aunt Marie Myers.
2. Maurine as teenager, helping in the family's dairy barn.
3. Maurine and Margaret as high-shcool grads. Maurine is on the left.
4. This was the picture she gave to her sweetheart, my Daddy, after their engagement.
5. Teaching Home-Economics at Monticello Jr. High in Longview WA during the 1954-55 school year.
6. Maurine marries Richard Coon August 7, 1955. It was a double wedding for the twins.
7. Maurine holding first child. That's me. Spring of 58.
8. This is a picture of Maurine's parents with all six of their children and their mates and children as of November 59. Maurine is wearing the pleated plaid skirt and holding her second child, my brother Rob. Behind her is Richard, wearing a plaid jacket and holding Joy Renee, age 2, also wearing a plaid skirt with shoulder straps. Maurine made all three of these matching outfits. The plaid was red, white, black and gray. Mom was a talented seamstress and often designed the outfits she made and seldom made anything from a bought pattern without changing it significantly.

Margaret, standing three places to the right, is also holding an infant. Her first child, born August 8, 1959. Two days after Robbie. Yes, the twins had baby boys two days apart with their fourth wedding anniversary sandwiched between.
9. Another gathering of the Myers clan about 1965. Maurine is wearing the poke-a-dot blouse under a jumper, standing between her twin and her Father. This was the last time the entire clan was caught in one place. Only one of my cousins is missing in this picture. Margaret's youngest son was not born for another five years. Behind the twins are their husbands holding the girls born within a month of each other.
10. Maurine's family growing up. Joy Renee is about sixteen here.
11. Maurine and Richard with their ward Jamie whom they took in as a 14 year old some five years after their youngest had left home. Jamie is the sister-friend I often mention here.
12. Maurine holding her first grandchild. My brother's son, Jessie, who is an Army medic currently serving in Baghdad.
13. Maurine and her eldest Joy Renee, the only one of her children to have inherited the RP, AKA Tunnel Vision. Both of us are sporting black eyes we acquired the week of July 4, 1996. I got mine by smacking into a telephone pole while walking home from the fireworks the night of July 4th. I was paying more attention to Ed and our niece telling knock-knock jokes than I was of where we were. Mom got hers bending down to tuck her toddler grandson into his bed on the floor beside her bed and smacked into a desk on the way down.

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Changes

The chorus of this song from my early teens has been haunting me all day. I couldn't remember any of it except two lines of the chorus and I even remembered them wrong. Thus: "Ch-ch-ch-changes. Turn and face the pain...Time may change me, I can't change time." It is actually 'face the strain' and 'I can't trace time.'

The song was haunting me because the concept of changes brought about by facing certain uncomfortable truths about oneself and then applying ones self to change that which is change-worthy and under ones control has been the major focus of my thoughts for over a week and yesterday I began one of the biggest projects toward applying big changes to my daily life.

Ed's folks left on a week-long vacation at the coast Tuesday afternoon and I almost immediately began the huge project of cleaning and reorganizing our room. I've talked here before about my issues with hoarding and disorganization. They are magnified by the fact we are living with Ed's parents and our room is the small bedroom in a single-wide mobile home. Last summer I blogged about a major cleaning and reorganizing of the room when we acquired some shelving from Ed's Dad who had just cleaned out his storage sheds. I was excited about it at the time and thought it was going to be the solution but they took so much room themselves that one section that was hip high on me blocked the front of the closet. We thought we could live with that but the top of the 'bookcase' ended up piled to the level of my eyes. Mostly with clothes.

Then the stack of boxes which serves as our bedside table ended up blocking access to more than half of the bottom three shelves of the nearly ceiling tall bookshelf. It was barely workable if everything got put away correctly every day. But neither of us dependably does that in the best of times. During NaNo I slacked off and during the overtime season between Thanksgiving and Xmas where Ed works he slacked off on keeping his things in order.

I can't overstate the demoralizing effect of seeing freshly laundered clothes being treated little differently than those in the hamper. This chaos made beginning let alone completing the simplest tasks extra difficult and caused them to take extra time as well. Hunting out clothes for a shower was often a matter of moving the layers of that stack of clothes onto the bed until the items you were looking for were found and then moving the stuff back again. Things that fell behind that stack into the cavern of the closet could not be retrieved unless the entire stack of clothes, duffel bag full of clothes and plastic drawer-in-a-box were moved off the short bookcase. And then it was necessary to sit on the bookcase and lean into the closet. Once I fell head first into it when I was alone in the room. I'm sure it would have made a funny video but it wasn't funny at the time. The thought of having to call for help and inviting one of my in-laws in there to see the condition of their guest room at that time was nearly enough to precipitate an anxiety attack.

I haven't bothered going after items I lost back there since that incident which occurred sometime in October.

As if things weren't bad enough before my trip to Longview at the beginning of December, I made the mess twice as bad while packing for that trip. I had to empty that large duffel bag of clothes being stored in it in order to use it. And the same for a smaller duffel. All of the items I didn't take with me were stuffed into a large yard trash bag which was stuffed into the closet on top of what was already in there.

I can only do a major cleaning or reorganizing of our room when Ed's folks are not at home and not going to be home for a good eight hours or more. The only time I get that is Saturday racing day between April and September and their semi-annual three day trips to the coast. But for most of 2005 and 2006 I was needed for all of those occasions to sit with Ed's Grandma. So for about twenty months or so, my regular maintenance of the room was cut back to close to zero.

The reason I need to be home alone or with only Ed is that I have to move a lot of stuff out of the room in the process. Into their living room.

I have felt so demoralized by the process the last several times I went through the motions because I had begun to feel like Sisyphus pushing that meaningless boulder up the hill only to have it roll back down again. I keep moving stuff out of the room that I never see between the times that I move it out and back in again. Shuffling stuff like an endless solitaire game played with clothes and books and electronics and cardboard boxes and papers and sewing projects and HABA (Health and Beauty Aids--a term Ed and I began to use when he spent a year as a janitor of a department store.)

This time I am determined to winnow it down. The clothes especially. The majority of them are rags that I just have the hardest time throwing out. I mean they aren't even good enough for Goodwill. Holes, stains, frayed edges, snags and runs. I won't even go into the HABA, the sewing supplies, the office supplies and my research and writing papers. At least not until I get to the specific projects of sorting them. Some of the smaller sorting projects can wait until next week after the room is essentially put back together. My focus this week is on the closet and the books.

We have come up with a plan that might solve the problem of the space those shelves took up and the way access to the closet and half of the shelves was blocked. Ed is going to build a seven foot long bench against the wall opposite the closet. The bed is against that wall now. Two of the book cases will be set on that bench and the bed pushed back against them. Then I will take that side of the bed which is currently Ed's and he will have the side by the closet. Most of the books will fit onto those two book cases. The two shorter bookcases will fit side by side on top of the entertainment center. The bottom shelves of which will probably also hold books but the top shelves are too short so they will hold boot and shoe box tops and bottoms upturned to serve as drawers. Which is what is on them now but I'm sure different items will be stored in them when the change over is made because the items in them now are related to my writing and sewing projects which I will probably want to keep closer to my workstation at the head of the bed.

Today I got the laundry sorted and did seven loads. There are probably five more to go including blankets and coats. I also unloaded the two book shelves slated to be placed on the 'bench' and moved one of them out to the living room and put books back on it. Seems silly but it is the safest place for them. The other bookshelf is on top of the entertainment center now and too heavy for me to lift down. I lifted down one large cardboard box full of books off of it today and in the process one of the books (one of Ed's programmer's manuals) fell out and knocked my glasses off my face. My heart skipped several beats before I located and assured myself my new glasses had not been broken. I should have emptied the box first.

I also got everything off the floor of our half of the closet. The other half still contains my in-laws belongings.

I filled a hip high waste basket one and a half times already. That was just stuff immediately identifiable as trash. I won't embarrass myself further by listing any of it. I mean. Really. It was so bad it isn't hard to imagine images of the things I saw today being featured on one of Oprah's shows about hoarders or disorganized people. Or similar shows on the TLC channel.

I got a shower at nine and started this post at nine-thirty intending for it to be brief so that I could be in bed by ten. It just turned twelve. So much for intentions.

I just realized I have been sitting here on the couch for three hours. I barely sat down at all between noon and 5:30 today nor between 6 and 8:30. I lay on the bare mattress between 8:30 and 8:50 waiting for the sheets and mattress pad to finish drying. I could barely stand up afterwards. Oh boy. It is going to hurt when I stand up and start walking.

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Happy New Year

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Intentions

These are my intentions for the New Year. This is not the same as the typical resolution. These are meant to get at the place where behaviors are born and nurtured so that change-worthy behaviors can be identified, discarded and replaced with healthy habits.

I intend to be mindful
>>>>>of my thoughts
>>>>>of my actions
>>>>>of my dreams
>>>>>>>>>>with which I sight and aim at the future

I intend to take stock
>>>>>of my habits
>>>>>of my talents
>>>>>of my blessings
>>>>>>>>>>from which resources for fulfillment are drawn.

I intend to winnow
>>>>>the toxic
>>>>>the clutter
>>>>>the ennui
>>>>>>>>>>that which hinders progress.

I intend to welcome
>>>>>hope
>>>>>peace
>>>>>wonder
>>>>>>>>>>of which joy is woven.

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Only If

"Enya: Only If..."

When there's a shadow, you reach for the sun.
When there is love, then you look for the one.
And for the promises, there is this land.
And for the heavens are those who can fly.
Chorus:
If you really want to, you can hear me say
Only if you want to will you find a way.
If you really want to you can seize the day.
Only if you want to will you fly away.

Da da da da, da da da da da.
da da da da, da da da da da,
da da da da.


When there's a journey, you follow a star.
When there's an ocean, you sail from afar.
And for the broken heart, there is the sky.
And for tomorrow are those who can fly.

Chorus
Da da da da, da da da da da.
da da da da, da da da da da,
da da da da.

Ooh go doe bay mwa.
Ooh go doe bay mwa.

Chorus

Ah! Je voudrai voler comme un oiseau d'aile
Ah! Je voudrai voler comme un oiseau d'aile,
d'aile...

Ooh go doe bay mwa.
Ooh go doe bay mwa.

Chorus


If you really want to you can seize the day.
Only if you want to will you fly away.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I've spent most of my spare time since I prepared my Sunday Serenity post Saturday night listening to and watching Enya videos on YouTube. I'm posting this one because the song, Only If, became my personal anthem right around this time of the year in 1997.

My sister-friend, Jamie, had given my a CD with two Enya songs on it, this one and Silent Night. I had just turned forty. I felt stuck in my life. Things seemed to be falling apart. I listened to this song over and over and began to believe again.

In the following months I began to do things that made huge positive changes in my life. I began writing poetry. Many of the poems I've posted on Monday Poetry Train were from the next two years. It was the following spring when I finished the 16,000 word short story, Making Rag Doll Babies and Million Dollar Maybes, including the lyrics to the song of the same title which I wrote for one of its characters. I started doing things to take care of myself physically and emotionally. I began a daily walk even though the only safe place to do it was the driveway. I let my Panic/Anxiety and Depression support group talk me into allowing the doctors to treat my mood disorder with meds.

I am posting this today not just because of nostalgia though. I am finding myself in a similar frame of mind as I was that winter when it had such a major impact. I am feeling stuck. Things are chaotic in my life. In my mind, in my room and in my days. All of this is on my mind because Jamie asked me in late November to be her partner over the next year in a project she calls Creative Change. We, each of us, are our own projects while being the cheerleader, encourager and accountability partner for the other.

Jamie made her list of intentions for the year a month ago. I'm still working on mine. I know several of the ones I am ready to commit to. And I know several more which I know I should commit to but am balking. That is the post I am preparing for tomorrow. New Year's Eve.

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Sunday Serenity #37

I can always count on Enya for a moment of serenity.

Join us for a moment of serenity.

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Friday Snippets 25

This is the last of what I wrote on this story back in the early eighties when I was in my mid twenties. I am surprised by how much I am still pleased with it. Maybe enough to return to it. It was exposure to Holly Lisle's world building advice on her site that made me start thinking about it again.

If you missed the first two: Part One <> Part Two

Or if you've not the time for nearly 3K for all three here is a synopsis: Mourna has decided to attempt a rescue of her son, Jamyl, who had been torn from her arms and consigned to the Cairn of the Corrupt. She must first escape from the caravan conducting her and others from the Body to their exile in the Colonies of the Woeful. On her way out of her tent with her companion Puryl, La'zurra, riding on her shoulder, she glances at the sky and the light of one of Zircon's moons reminds her of the story of the Advent of the Lord and Lady upon Mount Womb:

They stood there, never moving, their faces towards the rising suns. As the red sun’s circle first peeked over the horizon they began to raise their arms over their heads, still holding hands. The light of their eyes pulsed in rhythm with their synchronized heartbeats. Two bodies, two minds, one purpose.

The Wailing Womb
by Joy Renee

1. The Mourning Mother (part three)

With that image held in her mind Mourna found her own purpose to rescue her son enhanced. And infused with a sense of power that evaporated the despair which had engulfed her since the moment they took Jamyl from her arms, she strode toward the Defender.

As soon as she stepped out from the protective embrace of the shadows among the tents, he swung his gaze towards her calling “Who’s about?”

“It is I, Mourna.” she called.

“It is late, Lady.” he admonished.

“That I know, sir. Sleep has departed from me this night.”

“We break camp at dawn. We must be sheltered by the First Watch of Laz next Dark.”

“Lord and Lady be willing.” she said.

“May they be.” he made the formula response, touching first his forehead then his chest. “For Head and Body’s sake.”

“Sad you must be to separate from your young one and her mother for this long season upon us.” she attempted to commiserate with him, but he stiffened his shoulders and looked pointedly over her head.

“The Body must be served.” he intoned.

“So it is said.” she heaved a huge sigh and reached up to caress La’Zurra who nestled contentedly against her neck.

“And so it must be.” the Defender completed the homely. “Lady, to resist the Body’s decree is unseemly. It can only lead to woe.”

She knew he referred now to her. It had been no secret within the Body that she had resisted the banishment of Jamyl. She had made no quiet protest. Her wailing and accompanying imprecations had resounded throughout the stone halls and chambers. No other Member of the Body could have acted so and expected to remain in the Body; for such behavior must issue from insanity and thus be cause for banishment to the Colony of the Woeful at the very least.

But Lady Maerfaum had at first received only mild reprimands and importuning from Mal’ys, until she dyed her white lock black and proclaimed her name no longer to be Maerfaum but Mourna--for she would never cease mourning for her son. Then, as Head of the Body, Mal’ys could no longer protect even the favorite of his son, Jharmyn naMal’ys, from the implacable Will of the Body. Even so he declared her banishment to be for one season only. If she showed herself to have repossessed her senses after the passage of time, she would be welcomed back into the Body.

Never in the Memory of the Body had such an exception been made. But never in the Memory of the Body had there been such a one as Maerfaum. With her bright eyes colored like sea mist shimmering in dawn light, with that white lock sweeping back from the center of her forehead that seemed to glow with an inner fire whenever light fell upon it, she was set apart from the Body whose members were uniformly black-haired and dark-eyed. Set apart also by her nature that swung to extremes like the very sea, Maer herself, among a Membership complacent and calm and predictable, she had early on received uncommon treatment from the Body. Nobody had thought to question it, nobody had thought to resent it, for the Head had Decreed it and the Head always knew the needs of the Body.

Seeking to draw the Defender into further exchanges, Mourna chose to ignore the allusions to herself in his words and instead, with an impish tone asked: “What then did you defy that you are banished to the Woeful?”

“Lady,” he said, his widened eyes the only sign of his alarm at her insinuation. “It is not banished I am. It is honored. As it was I who found you when I was yet but a Marsh-reaper, and presented you to the Head and Body, it is fitting that I take charge of your defense for the duration of your banishment.

“Found?” she whispered on an in-taken breath. “Was I not born of the Body as any other Member?”

The Defender froze in place, dismay dilating his eyes. Time stretched taut in the silence. “Forgive me Lady. I have forgotten my place.”

“You must answer sir. It unbecomes you to hide behind custom”

“I have said more than is proper.” his voice tightened on words gripped in a fist of formality.

Mourna felt his refusal as a blow. Her mind reeled, straining the bonds that moored her to sanity. La’Zurra chirped in her ear and she turned to gaze into the red maelstrom of the Purryls eyes and found her panic focused into a fiery crystal of anger that rapidly bifurcated as it enlarged to fill her mind. She turned her eyes upon the Defender and said “Tell me.” It was a command.

As his eyes met hers the crystal shattered and in its place was the answer she had sought. His memories, forced from him, assaulted her mind with a kaleidoscope of images, sounds, thoughts, all suffused with the volatile emotions of a boy on the verge of manhood. She whirled away from him and ran, uncaring where she went. He made no move to stop her. He made no move at all except a slow blinking of his eyes.

She ran heedlessly, blinded by a viscous fog of moiling emotions. If she was not of the Body, then who was she? Where had she come from? Where did she belong? She felt cut adrift as on a raft upon the Maer, far from the sight of land and buffeted by wind driven waves and rain, she crested a rise of land, a grass covered dune, and sighted the sea. Maer--oft-times home to her weary or troubled spirit. In a daze of despair Mourna unfastened her cape and let it drop to the ground unmindful of La’Zurra who chattered franticly from her refuge in the hood. The Purryl tumbled to the ground with a screech of protest that failed to penetrate the miasma of memories and emotions that possessed her mistress.

Mourna, having zeroed in on that one seemingly coherent thought, ran for the safety of the sea. She splashed through the surf until the waves tugged at her thighs and then dove into the breakers. She swam with a fury of futility until weariness weighted her arms and legs then rolled to her back and floated. The light of the stars, the moons, and the Ring laved the surface of the water and she imagined she felt their gentle caress upon her face. She allowed herself to be soothed by their aleatoric beauty, letting the colors fill her mind replacing the chaos of alien thoughts.

The filmy white cloth of the j‘mah, animated by the water, caressed her body.

########

(Glossary: j'mah is a loose-fitting one piece suit gathered at wrist and ankle by bands and at the waist by a girdle) This was the only Glossary entry that survived the loss of the file of notes and drafts because I had typed it directly into the manuscript.

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Thursday Thirteen #66

Thirteen Pictures of the Snow We Got Christmas Night Which I Took With My New Digital Camera

1. These were all taken between eight and nine o'clock Wednesday morning. The snow was gone by noon. It has been spitting snow again all day but it isn't sticking. I'm so glad I made it to the library Monday!

2. My father-in-law's car. Ed was taking it to work during the hectic weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas when he had to commute before or after the buses were running.

3. Ed took the bus Wednesday morning. His Mom stayed home so no tire marks backing out.

4. The paper usually comes before five in the morning but it hadn't arrived yet when I took this.

5. Sweetie was romping in the snow. Merlin was doing his best to stay out of it. See last night's post for his close encounter with the snow. As this pic was taken Sweetie was being called back in the house and soon after that, I took pity on Merlin and picked him up. I was carrying him around while the rest of the pictures were taken and he was putting up with it. He is not much for being held or cuddled. Though he has increased in affection since my return last week.

Most of the following pictures I took because I'm fascinated by the way the snow turns ordinary objects into something extraordinary. I suppose I would get over that if I lived where the snow was knee deep for weeks every year.

Except for the final one, I took the rest one-handed while holding Merlin over my left shoulder. Something I couldn't have done with my other camera.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10. I held the camera over the fence and pointed it down to get this. I couldn't have done that with my other camera and expected to get anything worth looking at.

11. Across the back yard fence. The pool is inside the green fence beyond the trees. Right around Thanksgiving some joker reached over the fence and tossed the hose into the pool and turned it on. The pool overflowed and our yard and the yards to either side of us turned into big mud puddles.

12. Dreaming of summer.

13. Taken out the window after returning to my room. This is the roofs of the neighbor's shed and carport. I'm watching the snow fall on them right now. It isn't sticking anywhere except in some of the leaves of the tree

Attempts to take pictures out the window with my other camera got me nothing but big balls of white light. I am really liking this new Camera. I am nothing but an amateur and I know it but I'm having fun.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It's easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Cold Feets

I was planning to do my TT this evening after I got Ed's help downloading the pics I took of the snow this morning. I hadn't learned how to get them safely from the camera to the laptop yet. Ed walked me through it just a bit ago but now I'm just too tired to choose thirteen of the thirty odd pictures I took, prepare them and upload them and then prepare the post and then start the visiting. So I'm postponing until tomorrow. I leave you one teaser. This is Merlin trying to walk on the tips of the blades of grass. Or maybe he thinks inflating his tail will help him levitate.

The snow was mostly gone by noon today. But the forecast is for more overnight.

I spent the day reading a novel. The last time I did that was December 3rd my first day in Longview when I read Bridge to Terebithia in a single day. Today I finished Jodi Poucoult's The Tenth Circle having started it Monday evening. This was my first Poucoult and I'm sure to try more. I'm much too tired and bleary-eyed to review it now.

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Merry Christmas

Even Merlin got presents this year. His favorite seems to be this collapsible cube.

As for me, my favorite was my new digital camera with flash and zoom and several other features. I'm still learning how to use it

I am way too exhausted to give a play by play of my day. It started before six this morning as all my days have since my return from Longview last week. The social part started at noon and lasted until after eight. Social occasions drain me like a cheap battery. About now I am wishing they made collapsible cubes big enough for me.

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Hampered

A pic of my old cane last April before I taped its sections together

Today has been long and exhausting. It was my first trip back to the library since I got home and thus the first in a month. I've been keeping my husband's hours ever since I got back so I was awake before five this morning. I was all set to leave for the library by twenty to ten. All set that is except I couldn't find my white cane. My Mom had traded me for one that folds up as mine had had to have its sections taped together when the elastic inside the tubes died. (See pic above.) After it was taped together I kept it on the front porch. Now I've got to get used to having a folding one again. It is small enough to slip into a medium sized purse or lose in the couch cushions. I'm pretty sure I tossed it on the bed with the rest of the things I was carrying in from the car after Xmas shopping yesterday. That is why I spent over an hour pulling blankets and pillows off the bed and pulling the mattress away from the wall and getting down on the floor with a flashlight to shine under the bed. It finally turned up in the pilot's case we use as a hamper.

Meanwhile I had worked up such a sweat looking for it my hair was soaked. I made the twenty-five minute walk with a full backpack on my back because both my rolling book bags were too hard to get to. The folding one was still packed in the big box I'd packed at my Mom's in an attempt to consolidate several smaller bags into one for checking when I thought I was taking the bus home. The rolling backpack took on new duties after the libraries closed last April. It became the storage for my purses and was up in the cupboard. Pulling it down meant pulling down several other things that would fall out if the backpack were not wedging them in.

So I used a regular backpack. I had a fleeting thought as to what I thought I was doing planning to bring back a pack full of books when I had not finished unpacking from my trip primarily because this room is already overflowing with stuff and the combination of the neglect during NaNo, plus the mess I'd made when packing for the trip, plus the mess Ed made while I was gone and his hours expanded to over ten per day, plus the mess we'd made with the Xmas shopping packaging and gift wrapping this weekend, had made it extra hard to find places to put things.

As if it wasn't bad enough to bring home a backpack full of library books, I chose this trip to the library to check out the new second hand book store I keep passing on the walk and bought several more!! I spent over an hour in that store while wearing the already full backpack. It was after three when I got home and as some kind of penance or something I made myself unpack the big box before I unpacked the books. I had to get that box out of the living room today as the Christmas company is coming tomorrow.

It was five before I had the box and the backpack unpacked and their contents distributed. I can't really claim it was all put away. Too many things have lost their usual homes because other items gravitated into them. I have a huge chore ahead of me in getting this room put back in order. And to think that by this time tomorrow I will have even more stuff to find places for.

This issue has been on my mind all month because as much as I want to make excuses that it is because we are living in a single room that was half full of someone else's belongings before we moved into it, I have just witnessed how easy it is to turn a thirteen room house into a collection of clones of this room. I have inherited a hoarding issue from my Mom. I have spoken about it here before. It is an issue I need to work on before I have my own home again.

Just think how many pages I could have read during that hour I spent looking for my cane this morning. That kind of waste of time and energy is repeated several times per day though it is usually just seconds or minutes not whole hours lost to the chaos. Still it doesn't take long for seconds to add up to hours.

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Jingle This

print for sale at art.com

We finished our Christmas shopping today and this is about how we feel. But I'm sure that a good night's sleep will bring back the cheer and the gratitude that we were able to shop for gifts again this year.

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Sunday Serenity #36

print for sale at art.com

This depicts two things that represent serenity for me. Watching kittens play. And fine needlework. Neither of which are in my near future. There are no kittens in my life right now though I did get to play with the litter my niece was raises for adoption while I was at her house in Portland last Wednesday. I've still not unpacked my sewing since I got back from Longview and even if I had I couldn't work on it until after Christmas preparations are complete--sometime on Christmas afternoon!! We haven't finished our Christmas shopping yet. But at least this year we get to shop!! Ed and I haven't exchanged gifts for four years and last year were even unable to shop for the rest of the family. Things are looking up this year. That is piece of serenity right there.

Join us for a moment of serenity

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Friday Snippets 24

If you missed part one or need a refresher see last week's snippet.

This snippet takes off after Mourna determines to rescue her newborn son, Jamyl, who had been torn from her arms and deposited in the Cairn of the Corrupt. But first she must escape from the Defender of the Body who is escorting her and other exiles to the Colonies of the Woeful.

The Wailing Womb

I. The Mourning Mother

by Joy Renee

(continued)

Why had she not thought of it before? Of course it meant defying the Body, but what more could they do to her? They had already banished her to the colonies of the Woeful. But what if she had to contend with the Defenders of the Body, that elite corp of guardsmen who would be guarding the Cairn of the Corrupt. They would stand guard until the Suns went down on the night of the Rain of Rocks. But there would be time, after they took shelter within the Body, to rescue Jamyl and find a place to wait out the Rain. She had the advantage of knowing the territory. She had done much forbidden exploring. It had never occurred to her to wonder how she had gotten away with that or even why she had had the urge to explore. None of her peers had ever displayed an interest in seeing anything beyond the confines of the Body.

With hope in her heart for the first time since that awful moment when they took Jamyl from her, she arose from her couch. Pulling her long fur-lined cloak around her shoulders she peeked though the flap of her tent door. She could see none of Zircon’s four moons from where she stood but there wasn’t enough expanse of sky in her line of sight for her to tell what time of night it was. She would feign sleeplessness and go out and talk to the Defender who stood guard at the camp’s fire.

She was about to open the flap when a tugging on her arm brought her attention to her pet Purryl. La’Zurra chattered agitatedly and commenced an acrobatic dance about the ten, finally coming to a stop on Mourna’s shoulder.

“Oh, so you wanted to come along and thought I had forgotten you, eh?” She scooped La’Zurra up and gazed into her multifaceted eyes. They whirled and seemed to spark, glowing an intense blue. Mourna had come to know the Purryl’s emotions by the color of it’s eyes. This blue meant happiness, excitement, hope.

‘It’s as if you know what I am thinking La’Zurra.: she whispered in her companion’s tiny ear. “I wonder do you think I’m mad to be considering such a thing? The Rain of Rocks is at dawn the next after this which leaves me only one Dur to retrace the steps I took in two. But I will think of something. I must! Shall we go out and keep the Defender company for awhile?

The night air was chill, a harbinger of the Season of the Far Suns which was nigh upon them. Earlier she had fancied she could see the two suns shrinking as they traversed between the horizons of Dawn and Dusk. With a shiver she pulled her hood up to envelope her face and with La’Zurra riding on her shoulder she headed for the cooking fires where the watchman would be keeping himself warm.

The light of Adze, the largest of the four moons, shed a ghastly red glow over the land like that of a conflagration. The huge red globe hung suspended from the sky, haloed by the pearly colors of Zircon’s ring. ‘The arm of the Lord’ it was sometimes called, and ‘The Anger of the Lord’ and ‘The Eye of the Lord’. There were many tales to go with the many names and Mourna had always been fascinated by them but remembered the bard Khor’ol who had come with the merchants and supplicants at the beginning of the fertile season. He had been full of such tales and hinted at many more. She wished she could have listened some more but Mal’ys had said ‘Enough!’ he was irked by Khor’ol’s effrontery in bringing Purryls with his act. It was well known that Mal’ys had no affection for the little creatures. But whether he held them in disdain or disgust was debated. He strongly discouraged their presence in the Body. But even he, the Head, could not forbid it. It was said that any who harmed or intended harm to one whom a Purryl had attached itself to, would suffer similar fate.

Mourna had admired Khor’ol greatly. He had seemed to be speaking directly to her the whole time, as if he had been saying to her ‘We will not be strangers.’ she was mesmerized by his presence, entranced by the sound of his voice. She allows her memory to transport her back…back to that day so many Durs ago…

His costume is a voluminous robe shimmering with all the colors of the Ring. He sits on a pillow with his harp in his hand. His slender fingers move across the strings. The music he weaves with them swirls about him like a thing of substance. The Purryls form a circle around him. They begin to dance and to perform graceful acrobatics that seem to be both choreographed and spontaneous at once. He begins to speak. His voice, a resonant baritone, is controlled. The words are carefully chosen. The words, the voice, the dance of the Purryl, and the music, combine and become one entity--the story. Then a wondrous thing happens. The shimmering colors on the robe coalesce, become a moving picture which acts out the story.

It is the story of the Advent. Of a time before the Body. Of a time when there was only one, long hot season. There was no fertile seasons or seasons of the far suns, no Rain of Rocks and no Ring.

A light appears in the night sky. A second light split off from the first. It seemed to fall out of the sky and disappear behind Mount Womb. Then everything was still, as before, except for the new light in the sky. A shimmering blue light, very much like the light of Laz. Why, that’s exactly what it was! Laz, the smallest and nearest of Zircon’s four moons.

As dawn lit up the horizon, two figures were revealed on the peak of Mount Womb. A man with star-white hair wearing a robe of red. Eyes of the same color as his robe shone like flame. His gaze was searing, passionate. He held the hand of a woman with ember-hued hair flowing long to her waist. She wore a robe of blue the color of her eyes. The blue of scintillating, sunlight-shimmer on deep waters.

They stood there, never moving, their faces towards the rising suns. As the red sun’s circle first peeked over the horizon they began to raise their arms over their heads, still holding hands. The light of their eyes pulsed in rhythm with their synchronized heartbeats. Two bodies, two minds, one purpose.

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Thursday Thirteen #65

Thirteen Things About the Book Store of My Dreams

1. The entrance on Burnside. I took this picture from across the street while waiting for the light. This is the Green room entrance (see #9)

2. It is located in downtown Portland OR
3. I was introduced to it in the early nineties.
4. The last time I visited it was in January 94
5. I just got to spend two hours in it Wednesday as part of my late birthday present from my brother's family.
6. It is so big you have to have a map to find things, including yourself.
7. I couldn't find the maps they used to have this time and I got lost.
8. But getting lost in a bookstore is the best kind of getting lost I can imagine.
9. Here was the map posted at nearly every turn around the store but I didn't see one until after I was already lost and they were never marked with a 'You are here' hence once lost I stayed lost until I happened to wander back into the Green Room through a different door from the one I wandered out through over an hour before. My sister-in-law and nieces had been looking for me for awhile. 10. Take a virtual tour of these rooms and see some photos taken inside the store.
Did I say it was BIG?
11. Powell's has an online store as well as several locations in the Portland area. Even so it is still an Independent bookseller. Powell's offers a partnership program providing 7.5% commission on the sale of any merchandise instigated by links from your web page.
12. Besides used and new books, they sell DVD and videos, magazines, novelty and gift items and more.
13. There is also a cafe where you can read or play board games over beverages and snacks.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It's easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Home Again

We pulled into the driveway here in Phoenix just before eight-thirty this evening. It rained almost the entire way and at times it was hard to see anything more than the tail-lights of cars more than a couple car lengths in front of us.

I could write a thousand word post on the events of this day which began with a drive in the pouring rain from my sister-friend Jamie's apartment in Vancouver WA to my brother's house just across the Columbia river which took nearly forty minutes instead of the more typical ten.

I could go on for paragraphs about the French Toast breakfast my sister-in-law made for us. There was the coffee with eggnog. There was the antics of the litter of kittens my seventeen year old niece is socializing for a pet rescue agency, the piano playing of her eleven year old sister and the poems and of their fourteen year old brother which he read aloud to me.

I could go on for pages and pages about the two hour visit to Powell's Bookstore in Portland with my sister-in-law and nieces. A visit I've been dreaming of for over ten years. A bookstore so big you need a map to find your way and it is still difficult not to get lost. If there is any place in the world I wouldn't mind getting lost in it would be Powell's.

I could write chapters about the topics three grown women and their nearly grown niece talked about on a five hour road trip: old boy friends, ex-husband, parents and parenting, ancestors, food, recipes, cooking, restaurants, music, kittens, babies, rain, dumb drivers, old school friends and teachers from back when, gas prices...

I could but I'm not going to. I'm practically falling into the keyboard as it is. I've had less than seven hours of sleep in the last three days. Besides I've been away for seventeen days and Ed is working twelve hour days this week and was already asleep when I got home so I've barely greeted him and the only time I will get to spend with him before late evening tomorrow is now by joining him in slumber.

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So, I've made the first leg of the journey home. I came the approximately forty miles from Longview to Vancouver WA to spend the night with my sister-friend Jamie. The original plan was for Jamie to drive me to the Greyhound depot in Portland OR across the river at five-thirty in the morning to catch the bus back to Medford OR. But late this evening we discovered Greyhound has changed its rules since the last tme I traveled to Longview and back that way. They used to allow two checked bags and two carry ons. Now they charge extra for the second checked bag and there are size and weight limits to all bags. Also my Mom had hoped to make the boardng process easier in the mornng by buying the ticket online tonight. But that turned out to complicate matters. By buying it ahead of time I would be required to arrive a whole hour before boarding to pick up the ticket. And not only that, they charged an extra 15 dollar 'gift' surcharge for buying a ticket with a creditcard that does not belong to the one who is traveling. What's up with that?

I did not come prepared for traveling back with a single checked bag of under 50 pounds. Anyone who knows me would start laughing hysterically at the thought. Plus I never visit my Mom wthout gong back with at least a few things I didn't arrive with. Who does?

When I learned this I just wanted to go crawl in a cupboard and close the door. I had just spent most of the last twenty hours packing a large duffle and a large cardboard box for checking and a medium sized duffle and a small back pack for carry on. I've had only two hours of sleep since 3PM Monday. I could not deal with this sudden shuffling of my expectations.

Luckily I have some take-charge people for siblings. My sister who lives with my Mom and my brother who lives in Portland got on the phone along with Jamie (who was a ward of my parents through her teens hense the appelation sister-friend) and together they cooked up a new plan. Jamie and I are going to my brother's house for breakfast at eight in the morning and I will visit with my brother's family (three kids still at home, the forth an Army Medic is in Bagdad) while Jamie is at work until noon. About noon, my sister is meeting us at my brother's house with my Mother's van. The same one she and Mom picked me up with in Medford two weeks ago.

So the three sister-friends are making the road trip together. Jamie and my sister are taking turns with the driving and making the round trip in one day as Jamie has to be back at work at ten Thursday morning.

I am typing this on Jamie's computer as I thought it would be easier than unpacking my laptop and hooking it up to her Internet. But I have been hassled continuously by pop ups since I sat down and the browser is not set up with my preferences the keyboard sounds like a herd of elephants. The mouse cursor likes to play hide and seek. And with only two hours of sleep in the last thirty odd I am just a tad cranky. And I have to get up in four hours. I think I better say good night.

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This is the counted cross stitch project I've been working on since 2001. It is based on a painting by Christian Riese Lassen. I've been trying to get a picture of it ever since I got my digital camera in March. But my camera doesn't have flash and apparently it doesn't handle bright light outdoors well either. I thought it was my ineptness at photography and the digital technology that was ruining every attempt I made to get pictures. I guess it was at least as much the fault of a cheap camera.

I decided to see if I could get a decent scan of it. I had to do it only half at a time and because it is stretched on a frame the scanner lid could not be closed. It took me six tries on the bottom half to get it centered right and to block the light enough. My mom came in to the room twice during the process to show me pictures she had found and to tell me the stories behind them. She talks with her hands no matter what she is holding in them which is why we have not been able to work in a kitchen together since I was in my late teens. It was bad enough when only she was legally blind. Put the two of us together and it isn't pretty. *

Anyway she was gesturing as she told a story about a picture and she knocked the scanner lid over which jarred the canvas and that scan didn't work. A little later she walked in carrying a big album of pictures open in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other and the album bumped the canvas frame in the middle of another scan. But as you can see I finally got a fair enough scan of both halves.

I'm still a long way from done with this. Although I have finished the background of X and / stitches, there is still a lot of detailing stitches to lay on top. Those stitches are more like embroidery than cross stitch or needlepoint. There is also the two rows of gold X that frame the entire picture. I am working on the first one which shows on the top half. Another row will go around it with a blank row between. Those X are made with two strands of gold floss combined with a strand of metallic gold. I had so much trouble getting the stitches to lay flat and working more than three stitches without knotting, that I took out most of a side and the top of that first row and started again laying down one strand at a time. First a single strand of embroidery floss, then the metallic gold thread and then the second strand of floss.

Most of the work on this was done in 2003. I commonly worked eight to twelve hours a day on it. When I started writing again in 2004, I stopped working on it every day. And when I started sitting with Ed's grandma that year, I took it over to her house to work on it and left it there so I worked on it only when sitting with her. The light in her front room was an artist's dream with those huge picture windows on three walls. When Grandma died in June, my sewing stuff was brought back to the trailer house but by then the good full spectrum lamp I'd been using before had died and my prescription glasses had been damaged. It was too hard on my eyes. Both of those issues have been dealt with since Thanksgiving so I hope to start working on it again. Though not iin eight to twelve hour sessions. I don't want to give up my writing but I do want to add back some of the other passions in my life and fine needle work is one of them.

This is my last night at my Mom's. I'm going to be spending tomorrow night in Vancouver with my sister-friend Jamie who will be taking me to the bus stop at six-thirty Wednesday morning. I have spent most of this evening packing. Still a ways to go on it and I have to get it to a certain place before I let myself scan anymore pictures. I didn't get nearly as many scanned as I'd hoped. I spent so much time searching the corners, cupboards, and crevasses of this house for the boxes and albums. I don't think they have all been found yet either. I also spent hours sorting them. It seems that just as I get it set up to take off on the project I've got to quit and who knows how long before I can get back to work on it again or where those pictures will migrate to in the mean time. It was two years between visits this time. I hope it won't be that long again.

*Though it is true that I alone in a kitchen is a sight not all that pretty. I started my day by nearly setting fire to the kitchen when I turned on the wrong burner for my coffee water and there was a skillet with a wooden spoon setting in it on that burner. The skillet had been used to caramelize onions for dinner the other night so there was a tiny bit of olive oil in it still. I went to check my email while I waited on the kettle and a few minutes later I started smelling smoke. By the time I got back in the kitchen that wooden spoon was black half way up the handle and the spatula end of it was smoking. Both the spoon and the skillet were done for.

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Mayo Clinic Diet.: Bees Knees & Mosquito Knuckles

This was something that was in one of the boxes of my Mom's memorabilia that I was sifting though looking for family photos this past week. I just couldn't resist posting it. It is a riot.

I had neither the time nor the patience to type it in though so I just scanned it. You will probably have to open the picture in a separate tab or window and use zoom if your browser has it. Oh, but it is so worth it. Just don't be sipping a beverage while reading.

My Mom was unable to tell me who sent it or when and there is no indication of a date. The fact she doesn't recognize the handwriting means it wasn't from either of my parents, grandparents or any of their siblings.

Based on the box I found it in and what other things were in it, I could have been sent any time from the late fifties through the eighties. Though the fact that it was Xeroxed would narrow that some if I knew when Xeroxing became easily available.

I really hope I am not infringing on anything or any one by posting this.

For the really hopelessly obtuse: this is a SPOOF!!!!

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