Thoughts on a Sunday night

Life feels like it's idling. I can't go forward, and I can't go back. I maintain...

It's been a long time...

...since I've posted anything. So much has changed, and yet everything seems to stay the same or has been before. what should I tell? I turned 50 this year. I was thinking that I would find myself celebrating on a cruise ship, happy to be alive. And where was I? Working. D. did take me to dinner at the local steakhouse, and I had two drinks, a rarety, and quite enough to make me fall into bed afterwards. I am not missing being young, and I don't feel exactly old, but when I look into the mirror, I don't recognize myself.

I am the one who hopes

The Wind

Peace Train

Todays journal page

Acrylics, colored pencil,collage

Memorial Day Weekend at Cumberland Gap

In the tent:which lump is NOT a dog?






Hiking the Green Leaf Trail -- a delight for the senses! Lushious greens, dark and mysterious trees, that smell-- you know, of earth and living growing, things, bird song, chirping, twittering, silence -- beautiful.

Hungry Mother 2009

Here we are again, for our annual trip to Hungry Mother State Park in Virginia -- one of my favorite spots in this corner of the world. This year, we couldn't afford a cabin, but didn't want to miss this wonderful get-together! (It's our fourth time going) So, we decided to camp out at the park this year. We had a nice spot right by the creek, here you can see how beautiful and peaceful it was:


Sweetie enjoying camp




The quiet creek

And then: TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR!!!
I had barely five minutes to grab a chair and the dogs, and get inside the tent. Note to self: if the dog wants to go into the car instead of the tent, follow the dog.



This is rainwater pooling outside the tent door


The grey stuff is not fog, it's sheets of rain


Fiona is not liking this


...and the creek, three feet higher in less than half an hour.

The rain hammered so hard onto the tent, tat the rainfly was pushed down onto the tent roof, and so it dripped through. We had puddles inside the tent. Tink rolled on the sleeping bags to dry herself off, so we had damp sleeping bags. I was soaked.

Guess what we are doing Memorial Day weekend?
:::smile::: camping.

As the garden grows

This year, I am helping more with the garden.
It's not the gardening that I don't like, it's the blistering hot sun. I can only take that so long, then I start to feel light headed and sick in my stomach. But the garden is in! We have green beans, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, butternut squash, sunflowers and cayenne peppers planted. We'll see what comes up!



The garden girls

Happy Easter!

Wishing you all a very merry day! It was beautiful here -- blue sky -- sun shining, birds singing, Spring has sprung.

Oktapodi

All went well

waiting in pre-op


silly surgery pet

I'm out of the hospital; the surgery went well, and I was pleasantly surprised how tolerable it was. The staff was wonderful and made me as comfortable as possible. Sweetie was a gem and stayed with me at the hospital; she made so much difference. I could have muddled through on my own, but it was so soothing to have her there and to be able to lean on her for help. Not something that I like to do. But that was alright to do. Thank you so much.
Now onwards with healing.

More on that

Well,now it is the weekend before surgery. I feel apprehensive and on the inside, if I would let myself, I'd be screaming. Sometimes there is something freeing in being able to scream. I had to learn that. I used to think that it was "undignified" to give your feelings that much vent. It's really quite primal. Maybe I'll pencil in some screaming for today.
What I'm thinking about:
*I've met the surgeon twice, and had to decide if I trust her enough to let her cut into my body.
*I don't like loosing any of me. It's part of a whole -- me.
*Anesthesia scares me. When I dream, I still am aware of me. When you are under, there is nothing. Just black. Totally irrational, I think: "What if I die, I wouldn't know that I'm dead." Because I can't feel myself.
* It's hard for me to give up control over myself and let someone else have it. Especially someone whom I don't know.

And there you have it. Say a little prayer for me, if you do pray. Or think a healthy thought.
Goddess willing I'll be back soon.

Going under

I have to have some surgery on Monday. Removal of the uterus. I'm not happy about that. Some women I've talked to are envious. I don't feel that way. I'm sad to loose it, even though I never used it... More later.

Vase by stephanie rollins

chekere

I want one of these! (pronounced sha-kay-ray, I believe)
Send me your gourds.

Purple Tree

Another prompt from Milliande's artist date club.
colored pencil, watercolor crayons

Black, White, and grey

An artist prompt from Milliande's site -- play with black, white and grey colors, think of birth, flow, new beginnings... I'm calling this "Begin where you are".
Hello out there!
water color crayons, pencil, ball point pen

Happy Thanksgiving

Gratitude is a currency that we can mint for ourselves, and spend without fear of bankruptcy.

-- Fred DeWitt Van Amburgh

ARRR, Matey!

My pirate name is:

Iron Anne Bonney

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

a visit

I've lived in the United States now for almost 29 years. My folks never visited. (I kept asking... but there was always something else that needed taking care of first.
When Mama died, Dad came for Christmas. It wasn't much of a "vacation", since I was new here in Tennessee, had a house with no furniture, and we were griefing for Mama. Funny enough, it was one of the best Christmases I've ever had with my Dad.
Three years have passed, and Dad (now 73) wanted to come for another visit. But now he "wanted to see something" ! For the month of September, I was personal translator, chauffeur, attendant and american culture guide.

Here a picture of the fine art of viewing football and rooting for a team. Explaining the rules? Not a clue there. Dad with "Helga hat" and braids? Priceless.