Just Words

For those of you who read these......

2011-08-15T15:12:00.000-07:00

Hi, My name is Blue and I am Linda's youngest daughter. I found the log-in for my Mom's blog and thought that I would post a little something. My Mom (Linda) died June 20th, 2011 at 10:30 am from complications of her COPD. She has fought this disease for along time and could not do it any more. As much as it pains me, I feel some relief for her as she was in constant pain, both physically and mentally. She got to enjoy some great moments watching my kids(Alexis, Ashlyn, Aubrey, and Lil' Eddie) grow. She watched me turn into an amazing woman, mother, and wife. She watched my husband grow into a man, husband, and a great father. I do believe she is smiling at me for the joy and happiness me and my family brought her. I miss her more everyday and find it hard to find the strength the continue. I feel so lost without my best friend to talk to. Here I am rambling.......thank you all for being there for my mom.....~Blue~

Sweet Zzzzzzzzz.........

2011-06-13T05:46:00.000-07:00

Once again it's.....

Masaic Monday at the Little Red House.

Sometimes, a good Z is the only way to go.

Teaching Ethel to drive the mower.

2011-06-06T10:44:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since i have done this!
Linking to ...

Mosaic Monday

Ethel is the Old Guy's cat. He rescued her from an un-caring family with rotten kids and big dogs.

She would hide out on our deck every day, and she was a mess. Matted hair, ribs showing, weak and pitiful. I named her and he loves her.
She loves him right back. She follows him around, to the bathroom, where she will sit outside the door until he comes out, to his shop where he uses saws and all different types of noisy tools. She doesn't care about the noise, just as long as she can be close to him.
One day, while he was out mowing, he came knocking on my window, all excited...."come watch this!"....and lo and behold, the silly cat was playing chase with him, running after the mower, hiding behind the kids playhouse then rushing out after him. He was so proud!
Then a few days later, as he once again was mowing, he comes knocking at my window again, "get your camera!".... and there she was, on his lap, on the mower, riding around with him. Will wonders never cease.

He even built her her own deck outside his shop.

I don't have my own deck!

My Old Guy and his cat. Such simple sweet things can bring such pleasure.

Sniff sniff.

2011-02-09T09:20:00.000-08:00

Is this national 'poor me' day? Or maybe it's 'self pity poor me' day.

It wasn't when i first got up. I felt ok.

But then........

this 'cold' hit me. Oh argh.

With COPD, having a cold is not just a plain ole 'sniff sniff' deal. It's a 'huff puff wheeze' deal. Which is basically my life everyday without the 'sniff sniff' part.
And there is a good chance that i may have to go to the doctor, again, and be put on antibiotics.
Again.

So, here i am, feeling put upon and picked on. Poor me.
In the last 4 months i've had this three times already, and now i'm going for #4.

I would really like to feel good for a day.
Instead of crying because i get out of breath just getting dressed.
I could just lay around in my jammies all day i suppose. But i really don't like doing that. It makes me feel lazy and worthless.

This morning i cried getting dressed. I cried putting Daisy out to pee. I cried pouring a cup of coffee.
It's a cry day.
BooHoo.

I get so mad at myself. I hate, detest, really get mad at self-pity. I am not a self-pity kind of gal. I learned at a very young age, self-pity is a weakness. Crying is a weakness. Don't cry.
But, sometimes i just can't seem to help it. Sometimes this crushing sorrow washes over me and leaks out my eyes.

I know that this horrible sickness i have is my own doing. I smoked for so long. I should have quit years ago, but i didn't.
My mother died with COPD, a sister died with it. And i kept smoking. And here i am. Paying the consequences of my choice.

But yet...i had plans and dreams, and none of them included having a hose coming out of my nose for the rest of my life. None of those dreams included sitting on the sidelines watching my family play and laugh, chasing and running and dancing. Nowhere in my dreams and plans did i see me having to lean on the counter so i could stand at the stove to cook.

And so i cry.

I cry because i want to laugh without coughing.
I cry because i want to dance and play. I want to walk the streets of our little town, looking in windows, talking with people i don't know.

I want to live. I want to be alive.

There. That's done.

Strange lanquage

2011-02-09T06:41:00.000-08:00

Have you ever paid attention to the 'word verification' words that you have to put in to comment on some of the blogs?

Very strange.
I know they are not really words, just jumbles of letters, but if they were words, what would they mean?

I made a list of a few.

I'm kinda strange too.

How about 'OVEMIS' ? Something to do with ovaries? ovens? over the mississippi?

Then there's ' JOLLOUS'. Most jolly? jealously jolly? Jolly louse?

Let's go ' MSHME'. Mush me? Mash me? MightSheHaveMineEngine?

Oh, why keep to the easy ones? Let's get serious here.....' VANEADERS, SPHICTRI, GAMUNC, MITYPERS' for golly sakes.

'BOODSTI' has got to be one to describe me at this instant...why? no idea. Thats why.

Now that i have let out my secret, that i am a closet 'word verification' crazy person, it's time to go.

So, DIGHO all my blog friends. May your day be BOFACQ, and my you find all the MARDR you want.

giggle.

Faux curls.

2011-02-07T06:13:00.000-08:00

Head on over to Jenny's for

Mosaic Monday

In one of my "i'm bored" days i got to goofing around with one of my editing programs. I thought we ladies needed some curls. Goofy, but fun.
This is my mosaic for today, me and my 4 girls in curls.
Going left to right.... me, Leslie, Joyce, Lisa and Blue.

2011-02-05T08:04:00.000-08:00

It's time for Sepia Saturday again.....come see.

Sepia Saturday 60 : 5 February 2011

I think i'll continue with Iva...

this is Iva, her mother, Mary, and her 6 sisters. She also had 7 brother's, but i have yet to find a photo of them.

The second photo is Iva in her later years. It is my favorite photo of her, standing there with her hand on her hip. She was a pistol.

Her hair hung to her knees, i remember sitting watching her brush it at night before bed. She would brush 100 strokes, then braid it.

"Q" is for Quince.

2011-02-03T09:35:00.000-08:00

Here we go, Alpha-Thursday again. Today it is "Q"....
Come on over to Jenny's and read more...............

Alphabe-Thursday's Letter Q

The house we used to live in had a quince tree growing just outside the backyard fence. Every spring it would bloom, and grow big yellow fruit.
I didn't know anything about quinces.

One day, some of the 'city crew' were out cleaning ditches and such, and i noticed two men out by the quince tree. One of them was giving the tree the once over, he turned to the other, said something to him. The other man smiled and said something back, gesturing towards the quince tree. Then the first man reached up, picked a fruit, rubbed it against his pants and proceeded to take a big bite.

Next thing i knew, he was bent over, spitting and cursing up a storm. The other man was just standing there laughing like a loon.

That kind of gave me the idea that quinces were not good to eat. So, i forgot about the quinces tree.
Until one morning a knock came at the door. The man who knocked wanted to know if he could pick some of the quinces for his wife to prepare. I told him to go ahead and pick them all they weren't good for anything.

He did pick them all. Over the next week he came back again and again, until he had picked every fruit the tree had to offer.

A couple of days later there was a knock at the door. There stood that same man. He handed me a pitcher of some red liquid, it was still hot from the stove. He also handed me two jars of jelly. Said thank you for letting him pick the quinces and left.

Lesson learned. Not all is always as it seems. When i saw that man spitting and cursing i took it for granted that a quince was just worthless and didn't think of them again. But, let me tell you, since then, i have tasted some of the finest jelly's , punches, and pies imaginable. And i didn't have to cook a thing.

Every year that man came back. Sometimes he brought his wife and kids. They kept that quince tree busy.
That went on for about 9 years i guess. Until the city decided it was getting in the way of power lines and cut it down.

No more quince goodies for us. And i sure miss them.

My grandparents.

2011-02-02T06:53:00.000-08:00

This is going to be linked to Sepia Saturday , along with other fine photos to enjoy and read about, come see at Sepia Saturday 60 : 5 February 2011

..I really don't know a lot about my family, but i do get tid bits now and then when my big sister gets to talking.
I am the youngest of 5, so by the time i was interested in hearing the stories, everyone else was tired of them. Now there is only me and two of my sisters left. I'm slowly learning all i can about the family past, so i can pass it down to my kids, they to theirs and so on.
I'll start with my maternal grandparents, Frank and Iva Green. She was 29 when they married. In those days that was OLD to still be single. My sister Judy believes she married him because of her age and the fear of forever being alone...but i believe she loved him. When you think about him being an full indian and her being white, and what that must have meant for them in those days. A white woman with a red man!
He was killed at the age of 35 when a brick wall fell on him. He left behind Iva and 4 kids, my mother being one of them.
There is one story that says he was a train robber once...which is really funny, as Iva's father was a U.S Marshal.
These two have been a mystery for a long time. Many in the family have tried to find more of their story, but too much time has gone by and taken their story with it.

Women from my past.

2011-01-30T18:18:00.000-08:00

Here we go, Mosaic Monday again at The Little Red House.

Come join us, enjoy the beautiful mosaics.

Mosaic Monday

These are some of the women of my life. Mother, grandmothers, aunts and great aunts. Each a wonder and story in herself.
I love these old photos.

P is for Piggy Tails....

2011-01-26T16:03:00.000-08:00

Well, here it is, another alphabet day.....we are doing 'P' this week. Come on over to Jenny's for the fun. You'll be amazed at the 'P's' you will see!
Alphabe-Thursday

P is for 'Piggy Tails'... Jamison had two.

Or, maybe P is for 'Pink'. Alexis is so pretty in pink.

P could be for 'Playtime'.... Ashlyn has so much fun being silly.

Bottles of Beads

2011-01-24T11:23:00.000-08:00

I haven't been here for a long time!
Come on over to Little Red House for

Mosaic Monday

I love beads, here are a few of mine.

A dream.

2011-01-23T15:25:00.000-08:00

Years ago, about 30 i think, i had a strange dream. Well, not to say i haven't had strange dreams before, or since, but this one has stayed with my all this time. In other words, it has followed me through time, dogging my steps and gently pushing it's way into the front of my mind at odd times. I have often wondered where the dream came from, and why it has stayed with my so long.

Here is the dream.

I was an indian, an old man, the storyteller of the village. In my mind and soul i stored and carried the stories of our beginnings and life so they could be passed down to the younger ones. So that we would always know where we came from and who we were. I protected the history of our people, and told the glory of our ancestors.

I was dressed in robes of leather and fur, sitting on the ground by the center fire. Around the fire were many people, old and young, male and female. I was telling the story of the river turtle and how he carried our first ancestor across the raging water.

I was also the old woman sitting next to me, and the young people listening to my words. I was each person there. I was the story teller, and i was every listener. I was the story telling itself.
My voice said words, and my voices sighed in amazement and hissed in fear.

I was the sparks of the fire, exploding and shooting to the stars.

I could smell the hot sap as it bubbled out of the burning wood.

I could smell the sweat of the me next to me. Over and over again. I could feel each heartbeat and every breath taken.

I could see out of a hundred eyes.

It was all joy, beauty and grace. Gentleness and sorrow.

Then i woke up.

The dream never changes in my memory, it is always the same.
Today it came to mind as i was watching a fat robin playing tug-a-war with a large worm.
Somehow, that little battle for survival brought that dream forward in my mind.
How strange is that?

Happy dreams.

Remember that boy at the lake?

2011-01-23T14:52:00.000-08:00

Here we are again, having fun with Jenny.
The prompt is 'Beam me up Scotty', and it is in blue.
Go on over to Jenny's and read some more fun tales.

Saturday Centus

"Hey ma! I'm home." yelled the teenage boy as he came slamming through the back door.
No answer.
'She must be sitting around gossiping with her old lady friends again', he thought as he opened the refrigerator door, searching for something to eat.
Nothing.
He stomped up the stairs to his bedroom, opened the door.
"Phew!" 'It smells bad in here, she hasn't cleaned my room! My buds will think i live like a pig!'
Just then he spotted a photo pinned to his pillow.
A photo of his mom, lottery ticket in hand, holding up a sign that read,

"BEAM ME UP SCOTTY'

Bye.

"O" is for oops!

2011-01-19T14:13:00.000-08:00

Come on over to Jenny's for Alphabe-Thursday

Oops is a word used often here in this house.
And everytime someone says it, little dog Daisy runs to see if some cheese has hit the floor.
You see, the Old Guy has got her spoiled. Whenever he is getting cheese for himself, he drops little bits on
the floor and says "OOPS" to let her know she can come get it.

Then theres the "oops" followed by a bad word usually uttered by me as i trip and stumble over my oxy hose.
Or the hose gets looped over a cupboard door knob and yanks the door open, or loops around the Old Guys feet as he goes by (giggle).

Theres those times when i'm coming out of the bathroom and the hose gets stuck under the door, which of course means the door won't open or close and i'm standing there getting really riled trying to yank it out, when all i have to do is gently slide it out. Oops.

Some days the "oops" come one after another. And there are days when not one happens. I like those days.
Those quiet "no oops" days.

But, "oops" can often turn into laughs and giggles too. Like the Preperation H on the toothbrush. Or the pants on backwards or wrong side out, or forgetting to rinse the conditioner out of my hair and trying to figure out why it feels so weird.

"Oops" says a lot in our home.

It's gone!

2011-01-19T10:37:00.000-08:00

It's been quite a while since i have been blogging....too long. And it's been too long since i've played at Jenny's.
And, wouldn't you know, for my first time back in forever, for Saturday Centus
this week we can use only 25 words, minus the prompt which is.....
'the lottery ticket'.
So, here goes.

Where is it? The lottery ticket is gone!
She sat, head in hands, watching the boy float tiny paper boats in the lake.
Paper boats? TINY PAPER BOATS!

Halloween 2010

2010-10-31T16:37:00.000-07:00

For a fine Monday of beauty and life come on over to ...
Mosaic Monday
and leave your fine comments.

Just a few pix of our Halloween get together. It was a fun day. Our newest son-in-law, the one in the maids uniform (giggle), did us all proud by being brave enough to follow through with a dare. He is (was) a very shy person. Our other son-in-law, in the grim reaper get-up, had a great time with the maid. Oh they gave us some fine laughs.

There was a gypsy, three witches, a unicorn, a couple of vampires, a small monkey, a skeleton, the butler and a hippy, along with the grim reaper, a chef and assorted others.

My Old Guy, the butler there in tails being hugged by that red-headed hussy, was in top form. He was the one voiced the dare. I think he was shocked when he saw that red head walking up the stairs.
All the little guys had a super time, especially seeing how silly the grown-ups can be.
A great time had by all.

THE BEDTIME STORY.

2010-10-21T20:35:00.000-07:00

The bedtime Story
The granddaughter's were staying with us over night one night in June. There was a bit of thunder and lightening for a bit, and then..............

After the electrical excitement last night, we all watched t.v for a while, "Bones", then the girls got ready for bed. It was 9 o'the clock then, Ashlyn had been saying "is it time for bed?", since 7:57, so i figured it was time. Alexis hinted that sometimes she stayed up til midnight! HA!

So i sent them off to do their bathroom stuff, get jammies on and all that. Papa had the storybook, "The Quiet Bunny", all ready to go. Ashlyn says, "i don't want the Quiet Bunny!"
Nana says, "that's what you got."
She gave me "that look".
The one especially reserved for me. LOL....little monkey.

So, the girls put themselves foot to foot, a head at each end in the bed, papa sat in his chair, and the fun began.

If you have never watched him read a bedtime story, you have missed a real show. He does sound affects, voices, body moves and the whole she-bang. Watching him be a bunny trying to make noise was priceless, let alone trying to sound and look like a flying bat, a croaking jumping frog, a hoot owl, a bear, and finally a silent bunny who discovered he could make noise with his big feet. He thumped, jumped, threw his head back, made faces, wiggled his eyebrows, growled, giggled, hissed, scritched, and all the other things that made up the story... and those girls laughed so hard they could hardly move. Ashlyn was almost hysterical, and Alexis kept bumping her head on the arm of the futon. Me? I laughed til my ears hurt and i couldn't breathe. It was perfect.

A fun night with two precious granddaughters who sweeten our lives.

Good boy Eddie.

The Water Girl

Time Travel

Birds of a feather....or not.

2010-10-18T09:51:00.000-07:00

It's fall. The birds are coming home to roost....LOL.....so much fun.

Mosaic Monday

My addition to Monday Mosaic with Mary.

Good boy Eddie.

2010-10-15T19:18:00.000-07:00

For some reason, we woman get all soft and mooshy when we see a big guy holding a little baby. It just gets to us.

As much as i hate to admit, that includes me. I get all soft and mooshy.
Especially when the big guy is my son-in-law, and the little guy is my new grandson.

Little Eddie is 6 months old tomorrow. How time fly's. He is sitting up by himself, eating baby food, practicing different sounds, and learning how to show his temper. Oh he is a sweetie.
He is such a good boy. He will sit and play by himself for quite a long time. And , unlike his sisters, when he first wakes up he is an angel boy, full of smiles and giggles.
But, the temper thing. He scrunches up his face, yells and slaps his leg, kicks his feet. It is actually cute and funny and i have a very hard time not laughing. He just tickles the hell outa me.

On the day of my birthday, while we are sitting around talking and eating cake, he laid in his daddy's arms, quietly watching and listening, and fell asleep.

I love these pictures.

Succulants

2010-10-03T18:51:00.000-07:00

Monday Mosaic.....come on over, enjoy the beauty.
Mosaic Monday

I love succulants, and i love growing things in shoes and pots and other non-planter things.
I find that succulants are a surprise all the time, they never do the same thing from one year
to the next.
Here are a few of mine.
Enjoy.

Nasturtiums

2010-09-27T16:18:00.000-07:00

Linking up to...... Mosaic Monday

Here i go, almost missing Mosaic Monday again.

I love the bright orange of these nasturtiums.They shout out "look at me! i am beautiful and alive!"
I have a friend, she grows nasturtiums as big as dinner plates. They go well with her morning glories, which are as big as platters. Her thumb is green to the core.
I've always been good at growing things, but not quite that good. However mine turn out though, i love each and every petal of every flower. It amazes me how these glorious beauties come from little seeds, push their way up from the dirt and turn into this.

Automatic Make Life Easier Susie Homemaker toys...

2010-09-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

I'm linking this up with Emily at Chatting at the sky for Tuesdays unwrapped.

Now who woulda thought!
When micro-wave ovens first came out it was, "i'm never gonna get one of those!", well, i have one. I've had one for about 21 years now and don't want to ever be without one again. The first one was the Old Guy's, a big, heavy, high-powered thing that you coulda cooked a cow in in a short time. We used that one for a few years and decided it was time for something newer and smaller, so that one went to Blue, who passed it on to Leslie, who passed it back to Blue, who then passed it on to A. No idea where it is now, and since none of us has the need, or desire to cook a whole cow in a short time, i guess it really doesn't matter.

Anyway, since the first old one, we have had two more, and i'm wanting a new one now. This one is square and black, i want rounded and white. Not picky or anything you know.
This is what the old one looked like. Big and heavy.

This is what the one i have now looks like. Square. With corners.

This is what i want. White and rounded sort of.

I also used to say, "i'll never have a dishwasher, been washing dishes by hand all my life and i actually like doing it! the hot water feels good." Yeah, right. Well, that was true at one time, but not anymore. I have never had a dishwasher until we moved into this house, and glory be there was one sitting right there built in to the counter. I looked at it off and on for a few days, never used it. In fact, i forgot i had it! until our first Sunday breakfast here, when suddenly, as the kids were about done washing dishes i remembered, DUH! theres a dishwasher right there! So, needless to say, the next Sunday breakfast dishes were put in the dishwasher. You know, there is actually a certain way to load one of those things! You don't just start shoving stuff in there and hope for clean dishes, oh no, you put plates here in this direction, bowls there, glasses up there, etc... hell! i didn't know that! i'de never had one of the dang things. So, that first load didn't impress me much, figuring the thing wasn't very good and didn't do it's job. Until one of my sweet girls let me know different, and now the dishes come out nice and clean.

There is also a garbage disposal in the sink. One of those "if you put your hand in there while it's running it's gonna chop it up!" things. Lisa does that, well, she pushes stuff down while it's running and makes me crazy...argh! 46 years old and puts her hand in a running disposal....or she did and i gave her heck. I mean, after all, there are little girls learning everything we do, right? Oh, thats a scary thought isn't it.

Lets see, hmmmmmmm, just what would they learn from this house? To go from one room to another, mumbling to yourself about what you thought you were doing but got sidetracked. How to chop up your hands in the disposal. How to hang yourself with oxy hoses. How to trip yourself on oxy hoses. How to shut your oxy hose in the fridge door and stop on a dime. How to laugh so hard your belly hurts and you pee your pants. How to talk to plants so they grow nice. How to eat canned tamales on lettuce with golden hominy on the side. How it feels to sit next to your nana with your head on her shoulder and fall asleep. Or play computer games with aunt Lisa till her eyes cross. How to put up with a papa who teases and harrases you with so much love it shines. And how to answere questions like...
how did i go from talking about micro-waves to teaching kids?

The Baker

2010-09-26T08:28:00.000-07:00

I'm linking up with Jenny for

Come on over and enjoy the fun!
The prompt is in blue.

The Baker.

It wasn't his birthday.
Not his anniversary, as he wasn't married.
Or involved with anyone.

It wasn't any special day.

Just a ' I want candles on a cake!' day.

So, he mixed, he poured, and he baked.

He frosted the cake and stuck 4 candles in it. Four being his lucky number.
He lit the candles.

He drew in a deep breath...
Closed his eyes....
and....

He never dreamed when he blew out the candles on his cake that it would start a fire,
he would meet the most gorgeous lady firefighter in the world.
And fall in love instantly.

Rain

2010-09-21T09:17:00.000-07:00

I am linking this to The Little Red House for Mosaic Monday

I have been lost in the glory and music of the rain.

I have seen it wash the dust away, and i've heard it

coming down so hard that all other sounds are gone.

I have raised my head, closed my eyes and breathed

in the sweet clean smell of new rain.

I have been lost in the beauty of the rain.

Wishing

2010-09-04T16:50:00.000-07:00

I am linking to Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus.
http://jennymatlock.blogspot.com/search/label/Saturday%20Centus

So.

There i stood. Wet. Cold.

Waiting.

For what?

Who knows.

But, it seems i'm always standing, waiting, in the wet cold whenever i wake up from one of those
"it was a dark and stormy night" dreams.

Just once i wish i would wake up standing, waiting, in the bright warm sunshine from a
"it was a warm sunny day" dream.

So.

There i stood. Very hot. Sweating. Burning. On fire!

Waiting.

For what?

One of those "it was a dark and stormy night" dreams.

Will i never learn?

Be careful what you wish for!

Lisa

2010-08-31T08:59:00.000-07:00

I am linking this to....... Tuesdays Unwrapped at

Today i am un-wrapping,

Lisa. My firstborn. Today she is 48.
Wow.
That amazes me, that i have a child almost 50 years old.
Wow again.

She was born 35 days before i turned 16.
She was born in St. Catherines Hospital in Grand Junction, Colorado.
We were attended by nuns.
They told me (at that time) i was the youngest to ever deliver in that hospital.

I had always heard nuns were mean, un-happy women, with no patience for mistakes.

Well, i learned that you can't lump everyone with the same title, in the same catagory.

I was babied.
I was lavished with kindness and love.
My feet were rubbed. My hair was combed. My clothes were washed for me,
so that when i went home i would be in clean clothes.

Lisa was held and rocked and passed around from nun to nun.
She was sung to and talked to and snuggled the total 8 days i was in that hospital.

The hospital food 48 years ago was still 'real food' and had flavor.
I was fed very well, and usually it was something i had wanted.

Maybe all that kindness and love that was heaped upon us had something to do with
Lisa turning out to be the loving soul she is.
She has a pure heart.
She is my daughter.
I love her.

The Decision, part two.

2010-08-28T12:53:00.000-07:00

WEEK 17 ASSIGNMENT

Take any other SC stories (yours or someone elses) and using ANOTHER 100 WORDS...tell us the "rest of the story".

Please copy and paste the first story so we can read both entries easily.

So...

A 100 word story that tells the rest of any previous Saturday Centus!

I chose 'The Decision'.

The decision was made. No turning back.
AnnieLee, sitting next to me, was rambling on about the past.
"Do you remember the promises's.....?" "Blah blah blah was all i heard. I was thinking, driving six hours is a long time on the road. Six hours spent singing car-aoke and taking in the picturesque scenery, but mostly reminiscing about the good old times.
But those days were long gone and my mind was in a different place now. Or was it? My pulse quickened as i passed the road sign which read "Medford 27 miles".

After 14 years of hearing the same words, non-stop, i had come to the end of my rope. Just a few more miles and i would be rid of her. Just a bit past Medford and peace will be mine. And her's.

It is time to set her free, this ghost of love long lost. Time to put her soul to rest.

It is time to let her go.


                                                                       PART TWO

Time to let go of this giver of promises that never came to reality.
This betrayer of dreams and hopes. The golden haired liar, trickster, who has run my life for so long.

This has to be 'goodbye', or my life is lost.

I looked over at her. The ghost of myself who would soon be put to rest in the house of he who shaped her.
That AnnieLee who was so tired of the lies and the cover-ups.

It was time for forgiveness and hope.
Time to live.

Green is a Wonder

2010-08-25T08:51:00.000-07:00

This is linking to Jenny Matlock's Rainbow Summer School....this weeks color is GREEN.

Alphabe-Thursday

Green can sometimes be amazing and wonderous.
Little green frogs hiding in the spring green of a blooming star jasmine.
Green ivy climbing a rock.
This is Brooklyn, our great-granddaughter, watching the wonder of green life.

A good day.

2010-08-19T19:27:00.000-07:00

My last post i was moaning about the heat. It has let up some. Whew. And i thank all you lovely people who left such sweet and loving comments. It amazes me, how people i have never met are so willing to offer support and hope.

Here are some of the things that give me mega joy.
My grand girls having a great day with their papa.
Seeing their beautiful smiles and the look of wonder that comes over their faces

Last weekend my Old Guy took the grandgirls, Alexis and Ashlyn, to see some cowboys practicing roping, and to visit the mini-horse place. They enjoyed both of course, the roping was exciting and very interesting to them.
Alexis got to see the mini-horses a couple of years ago, Ashlyn was still too young to go off with Papa for such a long time, so this was her first time.

Sadly, the mini-horse place, which used to have 150 or so horses, is now down to just a few. They have decided to retire. But, the few that were there gave much joy to two sweet little girls.

Alexis and Ashlyn, watching the ropers.

Walking through the field to see the horses.

Alexis so wanted to pet the big one, but it kept moving away. If she would have ignored him,
he would have been more than happy to get up close.

This photo is wonderful. Ashlyn picking grass for the horse.

Her first time being so close to a real horse, no fear, just wondrful joy and trust.

Alexis. Her beautiful smile that turns my heart over every time.

On the way home. She had a very big day.

Whew! this heat!

2010-08-13T17:05:00.000-07:00

I used to love the heat. Hot weather made me smile, when it was in the high 90s i was a happy person.
Not any more. Since my lungs have gotten so bad, breathing in the heat takes a lot of energy. Breathing is about all i can do. Moving around, doing anything at all makes it way to hard to get air.
It would help if i could sweat, but because of the meds i take i no longer sweat. Which means my body has no way to cool itself. Who would have thought a person would WISH for sweat?
I have a wet towel around my neck most of the time when it's hot. It helps.
Our air-conditioner is worthless, blows warm air. We have a fan or two, which keeps the air moving, but, it's still hot air.
Argh.
It doesn't seem nice that after not posting for a week, that when i do it's to moan and groan, and complain.
So.......
here's a nice bit of photos of a snow storm we had back in 04'.
I watched from our back door as this guy was cutting down the tree. I thought it was so beautiful, him up there, like a ghost in the tree, the snow falling on him.
And right now, on this miserably hot day, it looks like a bit of paradise.

Wham!

2010-08-07T08:24:00.000-07:00

Here it is again, Saturday Centus! Fun stories, lots of laughs and maybe a tear or two.
Join us!

And of course, the prompt is in blue.

Have you ever noticed the little words on the rear-view mirror on your car? The one that says...
'Objects in the rear view mirror are closer than they appear.'?
Trust me, it's true. Painfully so.

Fun day at the lake.
Brother sitting in the car, listening to music on the radio.
Little sister gonna sneak up and splash water on him.
Creep creep she goes, all hunched over so he won't see her.
Tummy full of tickles and silly butterflies.
There she is, right under his window...
getting all shivery, ready to spring,
and UP she pops!
Face to face with the rear view mirror.
Just before it knocks her out.
Wham!

I got lost.

2010-08-04T10:13:00.000-07:00

I've been a bit, well, 'lost', the past few days.

I sold my car. My sweet little 2003 PT Cruiser that we bought brand new. My sweet little car that, even though i've had it for 7 years, it had less than 41K miles on it.
We took GOOD care of that car. I loved that car. And, it really hurt to see it go. I didn't want to sell my car, not really, but, there comes a time when you gotta do what you gotta do.
Since i've been on 24/7 oxy, i haven't done much driving. The few times i did, i noticed that my reflexes have slowed down, and my focus isn't as sharp. I asked my doctor about it, he said that because i waited so long to start using the oxygen, especially at night, the lack of oxy to my brain has left a bit of damage.
I'm only 62. I no longer feel good about driving. What if i caused a crash? Or hit someone crossing the street? I had to ask myself these questions, over and over. What if i forgot to look behind me and ran over a little kid as i was backing up? What if i had one of my granddaughter's in the car with me and crashed? What if..........?
Too many 'what if's' to take the chance. Just the idea of it scares me.

I learned to drive when i was 12 years old. Thats a lot of miles ago. And i love driving. I would get in the car and just drive to be driving. Not going anywhere in particular, just driving. In the years gone by, i've driven across the states a few times, gone here and there and about. But, in the last year i don't think i've driven 50 miles total. I've driven myself to the doctor a few times, and to Goodwill a time or two, but thats it. Most of the time the Cruiser sat in the driveway.The Old Guy would wash it for me when it started to get dusty, just in case i decided to go somewhere. One of the girls would borrow it once in a while, or the Old Guy would drive it down for an oil change every 3 months. But, mostly it just sat there.

I really really hated to let it go. It seemed like it was the last bit of 'independence' i have. You know, having a car so you can go when ever you feel the need or desire. Not having to ask someone else to take you where you have to go.

It's done now. The car is gone. I look out my window and there is an empty driveway until the Old Guy gets home from work and his truck is there.
I hate this feeling. I hate the 'boo-hoo' stuff that comes over me when i think of being stuck here unless i ask for help.

But, life goes on.

And here comes some of it now, skipping down the street, giggling and laughing. A daughter, two granddaughters and the new grandson.

Life. Ya gotta love it.

My Son-in-law

2010-08-02T15:47:00.000-07:00

I am linking this to Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus...
Saturday Centus

I just couldn't help myself.

The prompt is in blue again.

My Son-In-Law

I am thankful for a fine son-in-law. They live just catty-corner across the street. My daughter, her husband, and the 3 sweeties. That means alot to me.
Not only is he a good husband and father, but he is also BIG. And strong. And sweet.
He opens jars for me, and checks in whenever a strange car is in the driveway.
All i have to do is call.
But the opening of the jars, thats a biggy. Cause i get MAD and want to throw them.
That's why it means a lot to me, that they live close.
He keeps me from breaking things.

The Gift

2010-08-02T14:33:00.000-07:00

Come on over to Jenny Matlock's for Saturday Centus. Amazing people visit there.

Saturday Centus

I'm not real sure about this, but it's what came out when i put finger to keyboard.
The prompt is in blue.

The Gift

It had cost him so much.
He had given up more than anyone knew.

He gave me the most precious gift, he gave it freely and with love.
But he is gone.

It has kept me warm and eased my sorrows for a long time.
That's why it meant so much to me, and why, even though i miss
him still, it is time to pass it on, to give it away.

Such a gift must not be hoarded, must not be kept to myself.
There is someone, somewhere in the dark who needs the light of this gift.

Illumination.

The Water Girl

2010-08-02T06:43:00.000-07:00

I am linking this to these two fun places, come on over!

Mosaic Monday

Blue Monday

Alexis is about to turn 9.
For a long time she hated water. No water gun fun, no hose fun, no kiddie pool fun. Just flicking water off of your hand at her would get her upset. We were worried she would never like water.

But then.

In the summer of 07', my Old Guy, her 'papa', went and bought a big 'on top of the ground' pool.

The summers were hot here, day after day of 90-100 degree weather. He yearned for a pool to cool off in after long days of driving rock-truck in the heat and dust.

Alexis stood by and watched the first time everyone got in the pool. We could see that she wanted to try it...she didn't want to be left out, but she just wasn't ready to take that step.

One day, when it was just her and papa, she asked him to get in with her...he took her into the water, held her up and swam her around....she smiled....she giggled..... "i'm swimming nana!"... and she was off. Within a few days she was jumping off of the little board, having fun fights with papa, splashing and laughing. He taught her how to move her arms and legs, how to float, and how to go under.

Now, she is our Water Girl. Whether sprinkler, or pool, she is in it.

These are photos of her first week of pool fun.

The Decision.

2010-07-30T15:37:00.000-07:00

This is my first time at this meme....so be gentle....lol.... the prompt is in blue. There are ( i think i counted right)100 words. I'm pretty sure i'm right, cuz i had to delete one word.
And, hopefully, i did this according to the rules. My mind has a tendency to skip a rule or two sometimes, without letting me know until it's too late.
So, without further ado.....
i am linking this to........

Saturday Centus - Week 12

The decision was made. No turning back.
AnnieLee, sitting next to me, was rambling on about the past.
"Do you remember the promises's.....?" "Blah blah blah was all i heard. I was thinking, driving six hours is a long time on the road. Six hours spent singing car-aoke and taking in the picturesque scenery, but mostly reminiscing about the good old times.
But those days were long gone and my mind was in a different place now. Or was it? My pulse quickened as i passed the road sign which read "Medford 27 miles".

After 14 years of hearing the same words, non-stop, i had come to the end of my rope. Just a few more miles and i would be rid of her. Just a bit past Medford and peace will be mine. And her's.

It is time to set her free, this ghost of love long lost. Time to put her soul to rest.

It is time to let her go.

The Redheads in the Family

2010-07-29T09:01:00.000-07:00

Linking up with Jenny Matlock for RAINBOW RED at...
Alphabe-Thursday

I was agonizing over RED. What could i post about that was RED? It was my mother's favorite color, and she had RED everywhere in her house, and on her lips, fingernails and toenails, plus the clothes she wore. She really loved RED.
I think, if she had been just a bit braver, she would have painted the walls RED, and had RED carpet. Thankfully she didn't. Her place already had a RED glow when the sun shone through the RED curtains. I don't think i could have stood much more.
And strangely, me? Not so much. It's okay, but, not as an EVERYTHING color.
What to post?
Then as i was commenting on someones else's RED post, saying most of the dolls i make have red hair, it hit me... well duh!
So, here they are, the RED heads of the family, a few of the dolls i have made over time.

Bags Here, Bags There, Bags Bags Everywhere.

2010-07-27T05:53:00.000-07:00

I am linking up with Emily at chatting at the sky for.......

Come over, join the fun.

I like making things. I like making bags, toys, pincusions, or, sometimes i just embroider on a piece of fabric, hoping i'll find a use for it later.
I love the feel of a needle and thread in my hand. I love to use my sewing machine.
I need something to do with my hands while we watch t.v at night, so i try to always have some kind of project going that needs handsewing done on it.
I am un-wrapping a few of the bags i have made lately.

The Last Blooming of the Garlic

2010-07-26T05:30:00.000-07:00

It's time to head on over to the Little Red House for......
Mosaic Monday

Six years ago i planted an elephant garlic clove in a tire in my backyard. It grew. And it grew.
Which surprised me to no end, i had never grown garlic before.
It got taller, and taller, until finally, it stopped growing UP and started building a flower. By then it was over seven feet tall.

I said "WOW". In fact, i said it every day.

When i thought it was time to pull it and enjoy the rewards, i cut off the stem and dug it up. It was huge. And oh so good.
I forgot about it.

Come the next spring, there it was, peeking out of the dirt, pushing it's way up. It grew. And grew.
I didn't know about the little 'bulbetts', and that it would multiply. I was amazed.
It was just as tasty as the first time. Only, this time i ate the bloom too. Oh yum.

That garlic came up every year after that. Last year, as we were moving to this house, i spotted it, little green shoot pushing it's way out of the dirt again. I couldn't just leave it there, it had become a tall tale of the family. Plus, the dang bulbs were delicious, and big enough to share with the kids.... so, we gently dug it up and replanted it in a huge pot on the deck.
It grew. And grew. For the last time.
It was beautiful and tall and strange, and oh so tasty.
As silly as it is, i missed that dang garlic coming up this year.
Thankfully, i got pictures of it's last blooming.
Here is my 'Garlic Mosaic'.

I thought i was a poet.

2010-07-24T19:36:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, i thought i was a poet. A writer of magic words, i was sure wisdom flew out of the end of my pen.
But then i remembered. And wrote this.
1979

"Do not go beyond the fence!"

What parents teach their kids. It's what they teach us in school, and it's what husband's and wives say to each other.

"Do not go beyond the fence!"

Zoo's have it on both sides.

"Do not walk on the grass!"

They plant miles and miles of beautiful, soft, green, fragrant grass and tell us to "KEEP OFF!" Hmmmmm.

"Help keep our country clean and green."

Now this one is superior to most. There are bombs powerful enough, and men insane enough, to make hash of us all. And they tell US to keep our country clean and green.

"Day use only...no overnight camping."

My favorite. Tell me, what is the point in using a place only in daylight? Do boogie-men and monsters come out at night?

So what. We could use a few more boogiers.

As for monsters, look around, they are everywhere and it is daylight.

G is for.................

2010-07-22T06:54:00.000-07:00

Linking up to...................

I didn't find Jenny Matlock's Alphabe-Thursday until she was on the letter W, so i only got to do W,X,Y, and Z.
Now, today is the end of Alphabe-Thursday, and we are to use any letter we want, or repost and old one.
Hmmmm.....what to do what to do.
A could be for, uh, ANSWER, but i don't have one.
How about L, for i'm LOST!

But then..... but then as i was sitting looking out the window, watching the dawn, the first beam of sun popped through the leaves of the sweet gum tree. And it shook me to my core. It looked like a jewel that had been hiding in the tree, waiting for that one certain, special beam of light to hit it. It blasted color and sparkle through the leaves.
Then it moved on and hit the little orange flowers sitting on the deck, changing them to fireworks of the morning. As it crawled along the deck it lit first one marvel, then another.
A young walnut that fell too early off the black walnut tree.
A spider web stretching from the pineapple lily to the twisty sunflower my granddaughter has been trying to grow.
A lady bug resting on a stem of my one lonely tomato plant. She awoke with sun in her eyes, and began to stir, looking for breakfast.
As the light moved around the corner, it slid into the cup of one of the calla lillies where a small green frog had taken up residence. It lit him up like a piece of fine jade.
Then it hit me. Right in the face. Ah, what a glorious morning it is.
So, how about G is for Great Good Morning!

Darlin' Daisy gets a haircut.

2010-07-20T05:26:00.000-07:00

Linking to Chatting at the Sky for.....

This is my fur sweetie, Daisy. She is a long-hair chihuahua, 11 years old this month. She's been with us since she fit in the palm of my hand. She weighs less than 5 lbs.
The weather has turned over hot, so it was time for her yearly haircut. It totally changes how she looks.
The first photo is before, and the next is after. Isn't she the cutest though!

Alexis's first ' real' bike.

2010-07-19T14:39:00.000-07:00

This is linked to...........
Mosaic Monday

Granddaughter Alexis, got her first 'real' bicycle 2 years ago. She was thrilled. Her very own new bicycle. I shot these photos from our front deck as she was zooming back and forth, grinning ear to ear, hair blowing in the wind. Such joy.

Z is for ZIPPER

2010-07-15T05:01:00.000-07:00

And once again i am linking up with

Never, i mean never, forget your friends that you stashed away in an open zippered pocket somewhere. They get a little upset and tend to escape and get into trouble.

" Reach! Grab my hand!"

" Come on! Stretch! We've got to get out of these zippers before
she comes back!"

" Thats it! Just a bit further!"

" Okay, i've about got'cha now...a little bit more...

... there we go. Lets get gone!"

And that, dear friends, was the great ZIPPER escape.
Now you all know i really am nuts around the bend a bit crazy in the head.
Giggle.

In the Hills of Oregon

2010-07-14T05:29:00.000-07:00

This is my first time to link up with A Southern Daydreamer for...

My Old Guy drives a belly-dump, hauling rock for logging roads in the hills.
Every day he sees beauty. Here is some of it.

Early morning fog that hides the valley's below.

Then, as the fog lifts it all comes into view.

And, headed back down the mountain, they drive along a river and the green is amazing.

The Invasion

2010-07-13T05:04:00.000-07:00

It's TUESDAY again, and i am linking up with Emily at............

I like to sew. I make bags, toys, cusions, baby blankets, pincusions, and whatever else comes to mind.
Sometimes it's like being taken over by aliens.
Like two weeks ago. I started making turtles and birds. I made 8 turtles, 5 birds and one snail in two days.
I had been invaded.

Then i started hearing "oooooh, they're so cute! i want one. can i have one?" This from my daughters.
Now these critters are not toys, they are strictly 'look at' things, and of course, when the mom's got to pick out theirs, the little ones were wanting some for themselves. I guess i have to make some kid friendly ones now.

But, even though it makes me feel great when my girls gather around to oooooh and ahhhh over the things i make, when my big 6 ft. bear of a son-in-law said to daughter Blue, "where's my turtle? i want a turtle. it's not fair you women get all these things!"....well, i was floored.
This big guy who refuses to eat with pink plastic picnic ware because pink is a 'girl color', was whining about not getting a turtle. Will wonders never cease.
John now has his own turtle. He's happy. Me too.

The recipe for my 'From Seed to Yum' zuccini bread.

2010-07-12T16:50:00.000-07:00

Anja requested this recipe...so for anyone who wants to try it, here it is.
Let me give you fair warning though, it tends to disappear fast.

Preheat the oven to 350. Grease two loaf pans, or 4 mini-loaf pans. I always use the mini pans, for some reason it makes a big difference, and the bread comes out with just a bit of a crunch around the edges. Very yummy.

3 eggs
2 cups sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
1 tsp. vanilla
2 cups of grated zuccini
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1/2 cup chopped nuts (optional) (i never use nuts)
Beat the eggs until they are frothy, gradually add the sugar. Stir in the oil and vanilla.
Beat until thick and lemon colored.

In another bowl mix the dry ingredients until well blended. Stir this into the egg mix. Pour the batter into the pans, about 3/4 full. Bake for 1 hour, or until done. Cool 10 minutes.

From Seed to Yum

2010-07-12T05:24:00.000-07:00

Isn't it amazing though...that slimy little seed goes into the ground, pushes up a green seedling, which then turns into gorgeous huge leaves and joyful yellow blossoms, and then into green tasty squash that then becomes the most yummy bread you can imagine. Oh yeah. This little vegi is well loved around here. The flowers are tasty too!
My my my.
Summer love.

Join us, won't you?
for

Mosaic Monday
at the Little Red House.

Ice Water

2010-07-08T16:25:00.000-07:00

In the hot hot days we are having, a glass of good ole' ice water is the perfect thing.
It tinkles and clinks. It cools a hot forehead and wets a dry hot throat.
Ice water.
Just for the joy of it.

Y is for Yard Crew

2010-07-08T06:12:00.000-07:00

When we first moved into this house a year ago, the Yard needed a lot of work. The grass was knee high, the plants were wild and wooly and going everywhere.
So, my wonderful Yard Crew set to work. They dug, planted, raked, washed, watered, mowed and weeded.

They worked very hard, so we fed them good food cooked on the grill by my Old Guy.
It was a great day, family all around, sun shining, music in the background, laughter, food, babies fussing.
It does not get better than that.

Here it is again, Alphabe-Thursday at Jenny Matlocks place.
Come on over.

I was a cook.......

2010-07-07T11:45:00.000-07:00

at the 1260 Inn on the Al-can Hwy. way back in 1984-85. The Al-can Hwy. was (is?) the one road to get from the lower 48 to Alaska.
The 'then' owner hired me over the phone. She asked me, "do you make pies?" "Yes" i answered, "but i won't bake on the job. I'm not making pies." Her comeback was, "well you have to make pies!"
"Nope. Not gonna make pies. Find somebody else."
"Wait. wait. okay. you don't have to make pies. I'll make the pies. You're hired."

Just like that. I was a cook. At an Inn. During the busy season. Oh boy. Not only was it the busy season, but there was also road repair and construction going on, and since places to eat and sleep were far and few between, we got a lot of business.

We opened the dining room doors at 5 a.m, and closed at 9 p.m. Long days.
Some days i was cook/dishwasher/cashier/waitress, all at once. Some days i was just the cook.
When i first started she put me on as the dinner cook, which meant i started work at noon, doing a little of this and that, getting my kitchen ready for the dinner rush. That included coming up with a nightly special. A different special every other night. I stuck pretty close to the norm for the first week, but then got bored with the same words on the sign, over and over again. So i got goofy. Fridays i put 'Fried Chicken Lips' on the board. Wednesday it was 'Tuna Casserole with crushed Snail Shell topping', and Sunday was 'Grab it before it gets away snake bites'. Oh, i had fun. So did my customer's. I was a hit. I joked and talked with people, took special orders. Mrs. owner wouldn't do anything special for anyone. She was not pleasant.

After a few weeks she changed me over to the breakfast shift, which i actually liked a lot more. I made the biggest, softest, fluffiest pancakes in the state. When you ordered a stack from me, you got a 'stack'. Mrs. owner didn't like that, she wanted to go as cheap as possible, like pancakes the thickness of a quarter, sandwiches so empty they were scary. Me, i liked pleasing my customers, making them smile.
I think she must have fired me a half dozen times, but it only lasted a few minutes. There were no more cooks within miles, and it would take weeks to get another one. Which, being the brat i am, i took advantage of. I didn't do anything wrong, i just wouldn't cheat or short people.

Every once in a while she would get after me about the pies. Threatening me. Oh was i scared. Ha. Usually the threats came when there was a tour bus on its way. They always stopped for coffee and pie. She had to make the pies. She hated me then. I didn't much like her anytime, so it didn't bother me a bit.

This photo below was taken one night about midnight, the night before my day off. I had just picked up a 6 pak of Coors, the bartender, 'Capt. Quirk', was calling out to me...."Linda sweetheart, you can flip my cakes any ole' day!"

I was so alive that year. I was sizzling with it. I was full of piss and vinegar and loving it all.
Even though this photo is such a terrible shot, hard to see any detail, when i look at it i can see the sparks flying off of me, and the stars dancing around my head. I can hear my laughter and feel how my body glowed and moved so smoothly and easy.
It was a good time.

Sleepytime boy in blue.

2010-07-05T06:28:00.000-07:00

Linking up to........................
http://smilingsally.blogspot.com/

This is grandson Eddie. These were taken when he was just a week old, he is 12 weeks now.

Ashlyn's eating habits.

2010-07-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

Linking up to................

Mosaic Monday

Granddaughter Ashlyn used to fall asleep while eating almost every night. Her mom got some great photos of these times, and i think they are precious.
I wonder what she'll think when she's 16, and see's them.

Jerry

2010-07-02T12:06:00.000-07:00

A year ago we found out that our dear friend, Jerry, had been murdered by his son.
We had just moved into this house, and were getting ready for his yearly visit from Colorado, when we were informed of this horrible thing that had happened.

I have been feeling down and sad this day, wishing he was here with us again. I had so wanted him to see this house and enjoy having his own room while he was here. We were so looking forward to him meeting the new baby this year.
But, it is not to be.

With all of this sadness in my heart, are also wonderful memories of him. These i will share with you.

We first met him in 1999, when he came out from Colorado with daughter Lisa. He was quiet and cheerful and such a nice man. He stepped into the heart of this clan with ease and grace.
He would come out every year after that. Sometimes twice, for Thanksgiving and again in the summer. He would stay with us for a week, then go off to visit his grandkids in Nevada before heading back home to Colorado.
He and my Old Guy would take long drives in the hills and woods, talking and having fun, and when they got back they would both fall asleep watching a movie. Never failed. I would look at them there, each in his own chair, heads back, snoring a little, and i would think how nice it was to see them together, brother's of the heart.
My daughter's all loved him like a brother. They would go out dancing, or to the beach, or hiking. His yearly visit was such a sweet gift to us all.

The last year he was here, he stopped off for a few days on the coast. He knew i hadn't been there in a long time, and he knew how much i missed the sea and beach, so when he got here he handed me a grocery bag, in it was a Snapple bottle full of sea water, sand and sea air. There was a little pile of shells and stones, and a little piece of driftwood he had collected from the beach for me. The bottle had to be thrown out after a while, it had a few tiny creatures in it too, which began to smell a bit. But, that gift, that wonderful thoughtful gift from my friend, was the most precious thing to me. I still have the stones, and the shells, and the little piece of driftwood. They live in a place of honor on my shelf, here in my room. As i'm sitting here, i can turn my head to the left and see them there. My gift. My treasure. Given to me by a man who had the heart of an angel. A man who loved his family with all that was in him.

Sometimes, when i think of him, i wonder, just what must he have been thinking when he realized who it was that was his murderer. Oh the sorrow that must have overtaken him at that moment. It is like a knife in my soul to think of it. So, when those thoughts come, i turn my head and look at the gift, and i see his smile.
He is gone. But he is always here. And oh so missed.

X is for Xcellant!

2010-07-01T05:50:00.000-07:00

Linking to...............

My oldest daughter, Lisa, has gone back to school. She is 48 this month. She was terrified of math, but, on her first math test she came away with an A+.
What could be more Xcellant?

'Automatic Make Life Easier' Susie Homemaker toys.

2010-06-30T08:05:00.000-07:00

Now who woulda thought!
When micro-wave ovens first came out it was, "i'm never gonna get one of those!"
Well, i have one. I've had one for about 21 years now and don't want to ever be without one again. The first one was the Old Guy's, a big, heavy, high-powered thing that you coulda cooked a cow in in a short time. We used that one for a few years and decided it was time for something newer and smaller, so that one went to Blue, who passed it on to Leslie, who passed it back to Blue, who then passed it on to A. No idea where it is now, and since none of us has the need, or desire to cook a whole cow in a short time, i guess it really doesn't matter.
Anyway, since the first old one, we have had two more, and now i'm wanting a new one. This one is square and black, i want rounded and white. Not picky or anything you know.
I also used to say, "i'll never have a dishwasher, been washing dishes by hand all my life and i actually like doing it! the hot water feels good." Yeah, right. Well, that was true at one time, but not anymore. I have never had a dishwasher until we moved into this house, and glory be there was one sitting right there built in to the counter. I looked at it off and on for a few days, never used it. In fact, i forgot i had it! until our first Sunday breakfast here, when suddenly, as the kids were about done washing the second sinkful of dishes i remembered, DUH! theres a dishwasher right there! So, needless to say, the next Sunday breakfast dishes were put in the dishwasher.
You know, there is actually a certain way to load one of those things! You don't just start shoving stuff in there and hope for clean dishes, oh no, you put plates here in this direction, bowls there, glasses up there, etc... hell! i didn't know that! i'de never had one of the dang things. So, that first load didn't impress me much, figuring the thing wasn't very good and didn't do it's job. Until one of my sweet girls let me know different, and now the dishes come out nice and clean.
There is also a garbage disposal in the sink. One of those "if you put your hand in there while it's running it's gonna chop it up!" things. Lisa does that, well, she pushes stuff down while it's running and makes me crazy...argh! 46 years old and puts her hand in a running disposal....or she did and i gave her heck. I mean, after all, there are little girls learning everything we do, right? Oh, thats a scary thought isn't it. Lets see, hmmmmmmm, just what would they learn from this house? To go from one room to another, mumbling to yourself about what you thought you were doing but got sidetracked. How to chop up your hands in the disposal. How to hang yourself with oxy hoses. How to trip yourself on oxy hoses. How to shut your oxy hose in the fridge door and stop on a dime. How to laugh so hard your belly hurts and you pee your pants. How to talk to plants so they grow nice. How to eat canned tamales on lettuce with golden hominy on the side. How it feels to sit next to your nana with your head on her shoulder and fall asleep. Or play computer games with aunt Lisa till her eyes cross. How to put up with a papa who teases and harrases you with so much love it shines. And how to answere questions like...
how did i go from talking about micro-waves to teaching kids?

Tenderizing A

2010-06-29T05:20:00.000-07:00

Linking up with......................

I love playing with my photos, and one of the things i love the most, is extracting.
Grandson, Anthony (known as 'A'), is afraid of the praying mantis, so i decided to give him a bad time and make a photo of him being 'prepared' by two of the creature's.

BlueRaine

2010-06-28T05:41:00.000-07:00

This is for.....................

BlueRaine.
My youngest. She is 32 this year.
She's not 'blue' but she is 'Blue'.

Bugs Bugs Bugs

2010-06-28T05:09:00.000-07:00

Linking up to.........................

Mosaic Monday

Bugs. Who doesn't love bugs!?
Well, me for one.
Yech. I do not like bugs.
But, i have to admit, they are very interesting creatures. A bit on the.....uh.....'alien' side, but interesting.
I find that i watch every show about bugs, i just can't help myself. And that includes stupid sci-fi movies starring a bug of some kind.You know the ones, with giant bugs that crash into cars and houses and drag the people out by their heads...which come off at the neck. Or big giant bugs that spit acid or some nerve paralyzing goop, so that they can either tenderize the meat, or drop it in it's tracks to it's easy to munch.
You know. THOSE movies.
Anyway, back to my mosaic.....
There are a lot of bugs. Different shapes, sizes, colors and persuasions.
These photos show just some of the ones that live in and around my yard.

Idgie...a very good dog.

2010-06-25T06:57:00.000-07:00

Linking up to........

In the cold winter of 1993, daughter Leslie called me up one day and says, "mom, i just found a stray dog on the street. She's cold and hungry and her feet are iced up. She needs a home."

I had been wanting to get another dog, it had been since 1987 that i had been without a four legged friend.
So, off i went, to meet this stray that needed a home. As soon as i walked in the door she was in my heart. She was dirty and thin, shivering with fear and ready to be loved. She came right to me and laid her head on my knee, heaved a big sigh and closed her eyes. I guess she had found her home, her safe place.
She was just over a year old, had just been fixed, her incision was healed but a bit red. I took her in to the vet, he looked her over and told me she was in good shape except for being too thin and needing to be cleaned up. She had been abused and treated badly by whoever had had her, and she was quite timid.

She never did learn to trust many men...it took her about 3 weeks to let my Old Guy get close and pet her. She followed me everywhere, even to the bathroom. At first, i let her go in with me, she was so clingy and afraid of me being out of her sight, but eventually she got better and would lay outside the bathroom door and wait for me.

She was smart and beautiful and my good friend. In 2007 she was un-able to get to her feet anymore, and her eyes begged me for help.... so i took her in and held her as she went to sleep for the last time.
She was my sweet Idgie and i miss her.

W is for Windchime

2010-06-24T10:40:00.000-07:00

I am linking this to....... Alphabe-Thursday

I like wind chimes. But i like wind chimes that are not so.... normal. I have wind chimes outside, and i also have them hanging in my sewing room. Just in case it gets windy you know.
As luck would have it, the most musical one is hanging where the furnace air hits it when it comes on. Way cool.
But, thats not the one i'm showing you here.
The photo is of the one wind chime that glows in the morning sun. It doesn't really have that nice of a sound. More of a clink clank than a tinkle or a bong, but it glows. And i really really love that. We need all the glowing beauty we can get, don't you agree?

The Ringing of the Morning Bells

2010-06-24T05:28:00.000-07:00

Linking up with...............

I love playing with my photos. I totally enjoy manipulating, extracting and moving things around. I love fantasy. I have a few hundred 'pages' i have done since i started doing this in 08'.
Here is one of Ashlyn, i call it The Ringing of the Morning Bells.
What do you think?

Words from long ago.

2010-06-23T09:33:00.000-07:00

I just discovered......

A few years ago, my best friend, Velma, wrote in a letter to me....." nothing seems worthwhile enough that i care enough to be healed of it."

This is what i wrote back to her.......
'That was a strong statement, and one i could understand as clear as anything i have ever read.
Is it just us? or do the majority of women feel this way? Sometimes i wonder. I'm sure there are more of us out there. Is that a comfort we are allowed? to know we aren't alone in this life of sorrow and feelings of loss?
How sad. How did it come about that we should suffer so? We didn't do anything to feel this...did we?
I used to feel guilty for my life, just for the fact of being alive. But i realized, if God could forgive my sins, who am i not to?
But, the throwing off of guilt didn't cure my ills, only part of them, so now, what is it? That thing inside that never had a chance to grow and come to life, that wonderful part of me that is supposed to shine in the darkness and light my way. What happened to it?
In all the hours and days and years of mind search, and deep thinking, i have come to the conclusion that though we are the weaker sex physically, as far as emotionally and spiritually, we far outshine the male. For how else could we get by day after day with what we carry inside of us? We women, far beyond men, have the light of the world in our hearts, and in their fight to keep us under their thumbs they have caused us to dampen it's glow, and we feel it deeply. '

That was years ago. I've grown since then, and seen more of the good in life. I started to write down those things that had been done or said that wounded me to the core. Then i would take it to a peaceful, quiet place, set it afire and let the smoke carry it away. A simple ritual that eased my soul, which was the purpose of the whole thing.
What we need, more than any other thing in this life, is to make peace with ourselves for the things we have done, or thought we had done, that caused pain or sorrow to others. Those things we keep hidden away from the light of day, so they can go on living in the dark.
It is the light of ourselves that finishes them off, and sets them free. Guilt is a parasite, slowly eating away at the heart of it's host. Shame is the beast that rots the soul, living off it's own waste, producing more shame as it grows. On and on. Over and over.

I learned a long time ago that expectations only bring dissapointment. No one, or no thing, is ever who or what we expect them to be. It is impossible. Our expectations come from our own being, formed from who and what we are, and so, no one can ever match them, as we are each unique and a being unto ourselves. And so, we are hurt and dissapointed when our expectations aren't met. Which comes down to a hard truth...our dissapointments in others, are our own creation.

The test of being human. How do we deal with the shame and guilt in our lives? Do we allow them to live on and so infect our very existence? Or do we destroy them with the purity of truth? If there is a life beyond this one, how do we get there? Is it through love and caring? Truth? Faith? What is the password? I believe?

I do get wordy at times.

The Turtle Invasion watched over by Friends of Mine.

2010-06-21T16:35:00.000-07:00

I got on a turtle kick. I made 6, count em, 6 turtles in one day. They are CUTE! My girls all want to take them home.... no no no! I'll make more, but these 6 stay here, being herded by one lonely snail.

And, watching over this herd, making sure no one makes off with any of them, are Friends of Mine, sitting on a shelf.

These are things i do.

Leaving Blue Water

2010-06-21T16:09:00.000-07:00

I am linking up for the first time with.......

In 1985 i had gone through the loss of a love, the loss of my boat home. On the ferry ride from Sitka, Alaska, making my way back to Homer, Alaska, i felt lost and released, free and spinning.

I was in the middle of going nowhere, so glad to be going, and so sad to be leaving it all behind. My love had left, my boat had sprung a leak and suddenly it shone in front of me...blue water...freedom...wings to fly wherever i wanted. A fellow passenger snapped this photo of me standing in the window of the ferry, watching as the blue water washed past, thinking my thoughts. It's a poor photo, but it is real. It says all that need be said about that time.

Growing Wild

2010-06-21T06:09:00.000-07:00

Hooking up to the Little Red House for

Mosaic Monday

Last year, when daughter Lisa discovered the 'macro' setting on my camera, she went a little nuts. She would take it with her when she went for walks... these photos are the results of her 'macro madness', things growing wild where we live.

Now, on to the Good....

2010-06-18T06:46:00.000-07:00

that graces my life and gives me joy.
My last two postings were a bit on the down side, so i figure it's only fair to show the up side of my life and balance things out some.
There is a lot of good in my life. If i tried to put it all in here it would take me forever, so here are just a few of the wonderful parts of my days....those bits that make me smile and laugh and glad to be alive.

Velma.

2010-06-17T06:54:00.000-07:00

In November of last year, my dear friend, Velma, died of lung cancer. She was miles away from me and so i wasn't able to be with her. In fact, we hadn't seen each other in almost a year. My heart was broken.
In the 63 years i have been alive, Velma was the only friend i had who was loyal and true and real. She was my friend for 28 years.
The first 8 years of our friendship we saw each other almost every day, unless she was off on a trip somewhere. The next 7 years we lived in different towns, and so i only saw her a few times a year, usually at the airport as she was changing planes coming or going. The next 13 years i only saw her every 3 or 4 years as she was passing through on her way to somewhere, or on her way home.
But, there were letters. A lot of letters. We wrote long letters, some that i sent her were 12-13 pages long. We talked about everything, the state of the world, men, love, life, and we shared each other's dreams and nightmares.
There was one period, in 2006, when suddenly she stopped writing. Months went by without a letter or a call, then it was a year. I wrote and called, but received no answer. I was getting very worried, when she finally called. She had found out she had COPD and had had a breakdown of sorts. The head doctor she was seeing told her to not call or talk to any of her friends until she leveled out, that to do so would cause her more stress. So, she suffered this breakdown alone. Scared and lonely and sad. Alone. I wanted to murder that so called doctor.
Yesterday, i got this big manila envelope in the mail. It was from Velma's daughter. She had sent the letters i had written to her mother over the years. There is still another envelope coming.
Velma kept each and every one of my letters and cards. Thats a lot of letters full of a lot of words.
I had kept hers too, but it seems so amazing to me that she kept mine.
And she even made notes in some of the margins. She circled some of my words. And under-lined some of the things i said. She read them over and over.
My friend, Velma.
I miss her.

We had some good times being silly together.

Emily said.....

2010-06-15T06:52:00.000-07:00

Truth on a Tuesday.
I've been reading the 'un-wrapped' list of blog posts. Un-able to think of anything to write. Not one photo comes to mind to post and write about.
I keep going back to Emily's title, 'truth on a tuesday'. I guess thats my clue.
Well okay then. If that is what is going to stick in my mind, i guess i had better get something written on it and let it go. Right?
The truth is, i am tired. I drag this oxy hose around with me as i go through the house, wandering here and there, looking for something i can do to be useful. Like vacuum? nope. two, maybe three short passes with the cleaner and i'm dizzy and struggling to breathe. Mop? well, no, same result. Laundry? yeah, that i can do, as long as someone hauls the laundry basket into the laundry room for me. I can put it in the washer, and switch it to the dryer, then even fold it....but someone else has to take it back in.
I can cook. I have to take short breaks though, the cooking smells bother my lungs. But i'm still a damn fine cook. Sometimes i even put a drop or two of tears in the food. By accident mind you, but they do tend to get away at times.
I can wash dishes. Something i used to hate doing. But now, now it is one of the few things i can do and so it has become an enjoyable thing.
Friday evening two of my daughters and a friend left on a journey to the salmon blessing ceremony. A two day celebration of life and nature. As i watched them get in the car, laughing and excited and full of adventure, i felt a twinge of envy. longing. sorrow. pain. joy. happiness. oh i wanted to go. so much.
When they come home from going to the coast, smelling of salt air and sunshine, just after the happiness of seeing their happiness, comes sorrow. oh i wanted to go. i wanted to feel the sea air again. i wanted to hear the waves and the gulls and breathe that wonderful salt air into my sick lungs. just once more. sometimes i think, just maybe if i can once again breathe in that sea air it will magically heal my lungs and i will be well again and i won't have to fight so hard to breathe.
It has been 4 months since i have gone anywhere other than the back porch or front deck. My last time out was to the doctor for the usual check up to make sure i'm still alive. i guess i am.
4 months. i could go somewhere. i could. but i just don't want to go through the bother of getting everything ready that i need just to go for a ride in the car.
wow.
My finger has been hovering over the 'publish' button. do i? don't i? who wants to read about poor me? who wants to read this boo-hoo crap?
I don't know. Maybe no one. Maybe after this post no one will ever come back.
I would n't blame them.
But......it's the truth in my life on this day.

I am linking up with emily for

Our Darlin' Daisy

2010-06-14T06:03:00.000-07:00

This is going out to ... to the Little Red House for... Mosaic Monday

Sweet Daisy. She has been with us almost 11 years now. She's beginning to show her age, especially around her eyes.
She is a long-hair chihuahua my daughter, Blue brought to me to take care of, and she never took her back.
Daisy has given me much more than i have given her. She gives me purpose when there seems to be none. She gives me reason, when reason seems to have flown away. She gives me quiet when my mind is screaming at me. She gives me softness when all around me seems hard and sharp and painful.
She is my little love.

Alaska

2010-06-11T06:45:00.000-07:00

This will be linked to

I lived in Alaska for a while, 14 years to be almost exact. It was interesting. And cold. Way too much snow and ice for me, though i do have to say, there were some fine summer days, and you could grow mega vegi's during those long summer days.

It took me a while to get used to the "no night" thing during the summer. Laying in bed at midnight reading by daylight, just didn't seem quite right to me, so i took a black plastic garbage bags and hung it over the window of which ever bedroom i was sleeping in. That was a boring look, so i cut holes in the plastic, hung crystals from the rod so that they just dangled in front of the holes....TA DA! rainbows!

I lived in a total of 12 house's, apartments, buses,and cabins in the 6 years i lived in Homer, then i lived in a boat for 13 months in Sitka, then just 2 apartments the last 7 years in Anchorage. I had a nomadic heart.
I don't have pictures of most of the places, but i do have a few.
The first was a camper on a hillside....that was my first winter there, and when i would wake up in the morning i hair and blankets would be frozen to the window. A real shock the first time i went to get out of bed.
The second place was this cabin you see below. It was at the end of a 2 mile road that was only drivable during the dry days of summer, so for most of the year it was hiking in and out. There was no running water, i carried that in 5 gallon jugs. It had no electricity, i used propane, candles and wood. And needless to say, there was an outhouse.

The next place was also without electricity or running water, but it was only a couple miles from town and right off of the main road.

The next photo is place # 7. It sat on top of another hill, and it was windy up there. The house and outhouse both, were tied down with guy wires to keep them on the ground.

...... the matching outhouse....

I remember being trapped in that outhouse once, by a moose refusing to leave. She was munching on the branches of the young trees. I think she kept me there for at least an hour, finally, my cat, Doodle, came out looking for me and the moose beatfeet away.
Below is Doodle, my rescuer.

And that's it for Alaska memories right now.....

You might also like.....

When in doubt , answere the door.

Once upon a time.....

Voices in My Head

I almost cried.

2010-06-10T06:25:00.000-07:00

I almost cried when my mother died.
My sister, Judy, called me mid-morning and told me. My heart lurched, and my breath whooshed out, i bent over to keep myself standing when suddenly, the ~~monster~~ man i was married to at the time, punched me in the right temple. He told me he had no time for hysterics, and "besides, you probably won't cry when i die so you can't cry now". I looked at him, and told him, " no, i won't cry, i'll spit in your dead eyes and dance with un-fettered joy on your fresh grave".
Well, that did'nt go over well, so he proceeded to pick up a kitchen chair and break it over my back.

I didn't cry when my father died.
I felt no sorrow. I had lost him years ago, long before his death. He started molesting me when i was 8. That was when my father died.

I didn't cry when my brother died.
I felt no sorrow. I had lost him years ago when he decided little sister should learn all about sex from her big brother. That was when my brother died.

I felt bad when my grandmother died.
I hadn't seen her for 30 years, but i remembered that her home was one of the few places i felt safe and cared for.

I shed a tear when my sister, Joan, died.
I didn't know her well. She moved out away from home when i was still quite young. She made her escape. And left me there. I had'nt seen her for 30 years or so either.

I cried when my friend, Jerry, died.
He was true and gentle and caring. He was my friend. His son murdered him with an axe.

I sobbed with abandon when my friend, Velma, died.
She was my friend and confidant for many years. We heard each other's stories and loved each other anyway. She died last year of lung cancer.

So, what does all this mean? Does it mean anything at all? Do i care?
I'm not a bad person. In fact, i think i'm a good person. I care about people, i love my family and my Old Guy. I love my little dog, Daisy. I love the earth. I am honest and true. I say it how it is. I feel sorrow and anger and joy. I have good days and i have bad days.
I don't go about using people, or lying to them or playing games with people's emotions.
I am a survivor.
I am who i am.
I could not, would not, change my being to fit anyone else's idea of what they wanted me to be. I tried. For my ex-husband, i tried. But it just didn't take and i fought back. I have scars from him. Burn scars, and cut scars, and inner scars. But he didn't win.
I am a survivor.
I had uterine cancer, but i beat it. I survived.
I have COPD, with emphysema, asthma and chronic bronchitis.
But i am still here.
I am a survivor.

Magical

2010-06-08T16:14:00.000-07:00

This is linked up with chatting at the sky for
Come on over!

I had forgotten all about this being Tuesday.... again. So i am a bit late....again.
I am un-wrapping my favorite food. Enjoy.

Thanks for stopping by.

Just We Two

2010-06-07T08:49:00.000-07:00

This linked up to Little Red House for Mosaic Monday ....come on over.....

Here we are, my Old Guy and i......

Ivy's home.

2010-06-04T09:25:00.000-07:00

This is linking to Together for Good for.........

See you there!

A very long time ago, when i was little, my mom and i would go to visit her mother. My grandma Ivy. She lived somewhere around Winlock, Washington, way off up some little country road out in the woods. My mom called the house "a shack". And, i suppose it was, by a lot of people's standards, but to me it was the perfect place.
My mom's brother,Cleo, lived there with her off and on, and he had an old logging horse, Ned. Cleo was the favorite of all us kids, but Ned was who i wanted to spend my time with. He was the first horse i ever sat upon. He was big!
The house had a water well where Ivy got her water. She actually cranked it up in a bucket on a rope! She had a vegetable garden, and she cooked on a wood stove. I remember seeing her sit on her little vanity stool at night, brushing her hair to re-braid it for bed. Her hair fell to the floor. I thought it was beautiful.
She would take me by the hand and she, my mother and i would go into the woods to pick blackberries, huckleberries, salmon berries, thimble berries and wild raspberries. She had tin coffee cans with wire strung through holes in the cans, so we could hang the cans on our arms and have both hands for picking.
To this day the taste of a fresh blackberry makes me feel like a little girl again.
I was a little afraid of Ivy. She was very strict, and seemed not to like anybody, but i loved her home and how she lived, so i guess i loved her too. I know i loved going to visit her and Cleo.

This is what her place looked like in the late 80s, long after
she had died.

This is Ivy, Cleo and Ned.

Mystery flower

2010-06-03T11:38:00.000-07:00

This will be posted over at Good, True and Beautiful........

Does anyone know what this flower is? It just kind of moved in last spring, we have no idea where it came from. Could there be a "Johnny Purple Flowerseed" running around the country?
Whatever it is, it is very pleasing to the eye and has a mild sweet scent, so we decided to leave it and let it grow....just for the JOY of it.

Joy in a Blur

2010-06-01T08:25:00.000-07:00

This is linked up with chatting at the sky for...

Ashlyn.
Dancing laughing singing jumping.
Our Joy in a blur.
Her wings became visible, our hummybird in pink stripes.

At the Fair

2010-05-28T09:41:00.000-07:00

This is linked over at Together for Good for Flashback Friday...

Click here
to join the fun.

This photo you see was taken in 1993 or so. I can't remember for sure. But i do remember what a fine fun time we had.
It was in Alaska, the big yearly fair. We convoyed there, in 3 different vehicles. There were 6 adults, 2 teens and 2 little ones.
As we were wandering around we came upon a booth doing wild things to hair, so we all decided to have our hair done. I chose a mowhawk, you can see me there, the one in the middle of the three in back. See that TALL mowhawk? It was sprayed stiff and sparkly and with 3 colors.
That guy in front with the Bozo the Clown do and glasses, is my Old Guy.
Oh, we were a sight!
It was the most windy day of the year. My mowhawk was just tall enough and just stiff enough to make that a problem... every time a big gust of wind would come through it would almost blast me off my feet, which about took the fun out of walking around the fair. Gave everybody else a good laugh though.
By the time we got home, my neck was SO sore from trying to keep my head level.
I kid you not!!!

Morning Glories

2010-05-25T16:33:00.000-07:00

I'm sending this to..............

come see all the wonderful posts by all the wonderful people who are there.

I love morning glories.
My Old Guy knows this.
There is one little patch of wild morning glories that lives out in the yard. Just a small patch.
Now, the Old Guy, he has a thing about grass... it has to be short. He also has a thing about
weeds... they have to be gone.
But, more than that, he has a thing about me... he loves me... and so, he leaves that little patch of
morning glories alone. He mows around it, even though that means a few extra backing ups and forwards to turn the mower around.
This little bit of sweetness he gives me is more important than any expensive thing he could ever buy for me.

Sketches by Me

2010-05-24T08:21:00.000-07:00

I am linking this post to..................

Mosaic Monday

I like to draw and sketch... and doodle. It relaxes me. It releases feelings that are stuck and can not seem to get past my teeth and be sounded. So i take up pencil or pen and let it go. Sometimes it turns out looking ok, sometimes it turns out pretty good, and sometimes it just looks like childish scribbling, but always it releases me.

Day is Done

2010-05-22T12:42:00.000-07:00

A few years ago the Old Guy took granddaughter Alexis to meet her first ever real live horse. They were a bit small, but oh she loved them all. Like almost all little girls, Alexis loves horses. Big ones, little ones, white ones, spotted ones, and ones with horns in the middle of their foreheads. She would have one of each if it were possible. Who knows, maybe someday she will.
I missed Flashback Friday yesterday...so this is Flashback Friday late on Saturday.
Ok?
I love this photo. He took it as they were putting the horses up and getting ready to leave.

Tag!

2010-05-21T09:16:00.000-07:00

I was tagged by Debby over at
So here goes......................

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
     My middle name is my mom's.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
     A couple of weeks ago.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
     Yep.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
     Turkey.
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
     4 girls and 1 boy
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
     Yep
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
     You bet.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
      Yep
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
       No way
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
       No
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
        Oh yes.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
         Actually i'de rather have sherbert.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
         Body lanquage.
15. RED OR PINK?
         Red
16. WHAT IS THE WEATHER LIKE OUTSIDE?
        Warm and wet
17. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE DRINK?
         water
18. WHAT COLOR SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
         There are NO shoes on my feet.
19. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
          Green salad
20. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
           The silence.
21. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
         Blue
22. FAVORITE SMELLS?
          Green smells, like basil, green tea, fresh cut grass....and water smells, like rain, seawater, etc.
23. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
           My sister.
24. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
           Don't watch sports.
27. HAIR COLOR?
           Silver and grey.
28. EYE COLOR?
           Grey green
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
            No
30. FAVORITE FOOD?
             Fresh vegis and fruits
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
             Both
32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
             Where the Wild Things Are
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
              White
34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
               Summer
35. HUGS OR KISSES?
               Hugs
36. CAR OR TRUCK?
                Car
39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
                The Dome by Stephen King
40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
                 Don't use one, i have a roller ball mouse.
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
                 CSI
42. FAVORITE SOUND?
                 Laughter
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
                  Rolling Stones
44. WHERE DO YOU WANT TO GO TO NEXT?
                  Wherever the wind takes me.
45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
                  Fancy needlework.
46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Chehalis, Washington

Just Because...

2010-05-20T09:02:00.000-07:00

I sit here with my oldest daughter. She was born just before i turned 16, we kind of grew up together i guess. She'll be 48 soon. It amazes me that i have a kid that age.
We are very close, having shared so much over the years. There were periods of time when she was off living her life that i didn't see her for years at a time. Sometimes i wouldn't hear from her for months. Oh how i missed her then. She is so special in my life. She was never perfect, she made mistakes, but she carried my heart with her where ever she went.
This is Lisa and i......just for the joy of it.

I am linking this post to......

Time Travel

2010-05-18T08:36:00.000-07:00

This is going over toChatting at the Sky for

Time Travel is possible.
This past Sunday most of my clan got together at our house for a "grill day".... our granddaughter Jess and her son Jackson, are here from Virginia for a visit. He is 3 now.
Three greatgrandkids, five grandkids and 3 kids, and the spouse's of 4, were here that day.
It seems strange to look out in the yard and see three generations together.
Time travel is possible.
The proof was in my backyard, and i watched it play out. I heard the sound of it, screams, giggles, whoops of laughter.
I watched the fun of it, water fights, races, chases, crochet.
I saw the softness, gentleness of it, hugs, kisses and soft words of thankfulness.
I saw the wonder of it.

Voices in My Head

2010-05-14T07:46:00.000-07:00

In 1982, i moved from Oregon to Homer, Alaska. My oldest daughter, Lisa, had been living there for a while, and i missed her, so off i went. Leslie (age 12) and Blue (age 4) went with me.
It was a hard life with a whole lot of fun and laughs thrown in.
One night, as i was cooking dinner, the phone rang. It was Lisa, we talked for a while, giggling and laughing as we always did, said "goodnight" and hung up.
I was stirring and chopping when out of the blue came these strange little sounds. Tiny sounds, like voices way in the distance. I looked outside, there was no one, so i went back to my chef duties. The sounds continued. It started to really bother me, so i went off in search of the source. I looked in every room, bedrooms, bathroom, living room, under beds, tables, behind toilets, (i was getting desperate) in cupboards, trash cans. I went a little crazy, not wanting to believe the sounds were in my head, because by now i realized it was voices. Voices in my head, oh no!
Then i noticed, as i moved around the room, the voices got louder or softer, depending on where i was...and, the closer i got to the (drumroll here) phone the louder the voice got.
When i hung up the phone after talking to Lisa i hadn't quite got it on the base right, it was a little tilted, which meant i was still connected to Lisa. I picked up the receiver, put it to my ear, and got "HEY MOM! HANG UP THE PHONE! MOM! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! HANG UP THE PHONE!"
I was dumbfounded. All this time searching through the house for voices, searching my head for voices, and all the time it was Lisa. She was the culprit! She could have yelled louder!
I started laughing, louder and harder and louder. I couldn't breathe, i couldn't talk i was laughing so hard. I hung up. After all, i couldn't talk so why stand there with a phone in my hand? And what does she do? After yelling "HANG UP" in the phone for 30 minutes, when i do hang it up she calls me back!
That memory puts us in stitches a couple times a year. It was hilarious, and the grandkids love the story of when "gma heard voices in her head".

This linked up to............come on over, enjoy the fun.

Lady in Red

2010-05-13T13:40:00.000-07:00

I drew this in colored pencil, sometime around the late 90s. I always thought it was quite good, even though she is a little lop-sided. After all, aren't we all, in one way or another?

Confusion

2010-05-12T09:11:00.000-07:00

You know....sometimes i wonder if i am ever going to get the hang of this blogging thing. I ask "blogger headquarters" to make me a linky, which they said they did, but, where is it? I can't find it. They hid it. Put it away in some dark corner where it will get covered with dust and cobwebs. Ah well.

Then, i follow quite a few blogs, but only some of them show up on my blog, some show in my dashboard, and some just aren't there at all. So, i asked "blogger smart people", how come? where are they? No answere. That was a week ago. Guess they're busy with all the other questions they must get constanly.
So, when i want to go to one of my favorite blogs i have to check my list on my main page, then go to the dashboard, and then, if they aren't there i have to go to my bookmarks. It's sorta like being a little tipsy and stumbling around in a dark alley.

Thankfully there is Tuesdays Un-wrapped, and Flashback Friday to find everyone on.
Which brings me to this.....dear Jo at MYLESTONES, who host Flashback Friday, is going on leave for a bit. Dear Erin, at Together for Good, is going to take over for her while she is gone. Whew. That is a relief!
I don't know what i'de do without it. Well, not true, i'de sew something, but you know what i mean. I'de miss it.

"I'de" is not a word is it. Oh what the heck, i like it.

The Magical Mother's Day

2010-05-09T09:28:00.000-07:00

This Mother's Day is a quiet one. Not much is going to happen, the girls will probably stop by, one after another, hug me, tell me they love me.

My Old Guy got me a sweet card and a new book. Got my coffee for me, and is his usual all around sweetie.

The best Mother's Day ever was last year.

I have 4 daughters. Lisa, Leslie, Joyce, and BlueRaine. Their ages are 46, 39, 35, and 32.
Until this day a year ago, they had never been in the same house/room with me at the same time. There was always one gone off somewhere, living in another state or town. By the time Blue was born, Lisa was gone off, Joyce was living with her father. So it was just Blue and Leslie with me. We moved to Alaska when Blue was 3, which is where Lisa was, so then it was Lisa, Leslie and Blue. Joyce stayed in Oregon with her father.
Somehow, over the years, it never meshed up so that we could all be together at one time in the same place. We would make plans, but then something would go wrong with one of them, and so another year would go by.

But, last year it happen. After 46 Mother's Days, i was finally with my four girls all at once. For years I had prayed and wished and begged for it.

The day came. It was magical. This photo shows the beauty of my 4 girls. Their glorious smiles and wonderful laughter. It was a perfect day. My prayers had been answered. I had been given this gift.

Dreaming

2010-05-06T07:08:00.000-07:00

I am a person of the sea. I lived by the sea for many years. I heard it, smelled it and watched the dance of the waves. I miss it. Sometimes the sea comes to me in my dreams.
One night i dreamed i was on the beach, it was warm and sunny, the waves were making soft music, singing me sleepy. I found a large shell to curl up in and fell asleep. I woke up to the sound of gulls, which in reality was the alarm clock.
I of course had no photo of me cutely curled up asleep, so i used this one of my granddaughter, Alexis. I love playing with my photos, this is what came out of my dream.

I call it "The Guardian's" .

Mama

2010-05-04T08:51:00.000-07:00

I would like you to meet my mama. She was beautiful. Her name was Lucille Rachel.
She was born in 1915 to a Scottish mother and a Lenni- Lenape (Delaware) indian.
She worked hard all her life, mostly in the food industry and raising 5 children. She married my
father with hopes and dreams of a life of romance and love. She got hard work and a drunken cheat instead.
She did the best she could with what she had. What more could anyone do?
I wasn't very close to my mama. I was the last born, by the time i came she was tired and her dreams were gone. I don't remember ever being hugged, i don't remember her ever saying she loved me.
But, she was my mama, and i loved her.
She died in 1982 of COPD. She had been a smoker for many years and it killed her.

I miss her.

Once upon a time.....

2010-05-03T17:50:00.000-07:00

I lived in Sitka, Alaska. I was only there a year, but during that year i had some wonderful adventures.
It was in the mid 80s, i was not yet 40 and i was ALIVE.

This photo is of an old boat i came across while i was babysitting an island.

Itchy!

2010-04-30T08:25:00.000-07:00

Way back when... a long time ago... i was a wee girl. Yep.
We would spend a lot of days at the beach, or up the river, playing in the water. My mom had gone to J.C Penny's and bought me a new swimsuit. It was soft and colorful, and the bottom was shaped like a purse. When i would get in the water that purse shaped bottom would fill up with water and i would look like a balloon with legs. I hated that swimsuit. I am convinced my mom bought it to keep me out of the water. She knew i would hate being water-logged and so wouldn't go in the water. She was a worry wart and was sure that if i stood in water over my ankles i would drown.
Well, i whined and cried and threw a fit or two until she went and bought me another swimsuit. I don't know how long it took her to find it, or how many places she had to go to before she did, but i'm sure she had a plan. To find the ugliest, most un-comfortable suit she could. Payback.
She brought home this Pepto-bismo pink creation that was made totally of WOOL. Wool. Itchy pink wool. It even had a black ships wheel embroidered on it! Wool wool wool.
I spent so much time scratching that i never could get in the water.

I hated that swimsuit.

This will be posted over at Mylestones for

More family.

2010-04-28T08:36:00.000-07:00

To continue on with my family....
This is Leslie, she is daughter #2 at 40 years old this year.
She is my pistol. She is smart and gorgeous. A wonderful sense of humor, quick temper and soft heart. She will give you her last dollar if you are in need.
The other photo is her son and his family, and the other is her daughter.

It's Tuesday!

2010-04-27T14:10:00.000-07:00

I am posting this over at
come on over and read more wonderful stories.

I forgot all about it being Tuesday. I've been wrapped up in my own boo-hoo stuff, i forgot "Tuesday's Un-wrapped"....holy cow.
Nothing happen today except a lot of rain, so i had to look back to find something to un-wrap. Which, as usual, when i open my eyes, turned out to be a miraculous wonderful happening. I have to remember, they are always there if we look with open heart.
This is Tauni. She is my oldest daughter, Lisa's, best friend. She is also a part of our family now. Lisa took her in when she was at her lowest, at her rock bottom, nowhere else to go but up kind of lowest.
She has never had a baby. She never will.
She has never been this close to a tiny baby, she had never held a baby before this instant when this photo was taken. She cried.
That's just part of the miracle. The real miracle is my youngest daughter, Blue. Blue is baby Eddie's mother. He is her third child, she has two girls.
Blue, having done a lot of not so good things in her past, has a tendancy to look at other's mistakes without forgiveness. She can be quite judgmental and un-friendly to someone like Tauni. But, i had told her Tauni is now part of my clan, and would be at our Sunday breakfast dates from now on.
Blue had to make a choice.
She surprised us all by handing her baby boy to this woman and walking away to help me cook.
It must have been one of the hardest things she had ever done. When Tauni handed her the baby back, there were tears on her cheeks. She thanked Blue, and i think at that moment, Blue felt that glorious warmth and lightness that comes over a person when we let go of a weight and give something good to someone else. I think Blue felt that sweetness.

I know the look on Tauni's face gave me great pleasure that day.

Mosaic of Eddie

2010-04-26T07:58:00.000-07:00

Eddie. My new heartthrob. His scent is honey and light. His texture is silk to the nth degree. His sound is smooth and sweet.

He has climbed into my heart. He fits there very well.

This is linked to Mosaic Monday at Little Red House....go on over, enjoy the wonderful posts.

http://dearlittleredhouse.blogspot.com/2010/04/mosaic-monday-pasture-hijinks.html

Eddie

2010-04-20T18:05:00.000-07:00

I am un-wrapping Eddie. My new grandson. I met him for the first time yesterday. I was overwhelmed with love and gratitude. I felt wobbly and warm and full. My mind had no words, only sensation. The sweet smell of a new life, those wonderful little squeeky mouse sounds, big stretches and the amazing softness of his cheek. I breathed him in. I closed my eyes and let him take over my heart. Edward Franklin Martin Dane. My last grandchild. I am in love again.

I have posted this with tuesdays un-wrapped at chatting at the sky.

Come see all the wonderful posts.

The Chicken Story

2010-04-16T09:54:00.000-07:00

About 28 years ago i lived in an old farmhouse just a few miles out of Charelston, Oregon. It sat about a quarter mile back off the road, was nice and private and quiet. Well, quiet most of the time. There were those "party days".... shhhhhh, don't tell anyone, i used to be a fun kinda gal.
Anyway, i was working at Hallmark Fisheries at the time, a not so great job that paid super good. They processed fish, shrimp, crab, and whatever else. I would buy a 5 lb. can of 100 count shrimp, it was the cheapest as the shrimp were small, very small, 100 to a pound. I would try to buy it and hide it so no one would know, but someone always saw me carry the can out to my car, so the party would be on. My tempura shrimp clumps were well known and i couldn't fix it without half the town coming to enjoy it.
Of course, with shrimp goes a lot of other things. People would bring salads and sweets, brownies, pies, and all manner of good things to eat....and drink. It's the drink part that is to blame for most of the funny stories i have to tell about living there.
This time, after much shrimp munching, and salad crunching, and drink slurping, a crazy fisherman decided i should fry a chicken for an after meal snack. We only had one chicken, and he was a rooster. A mean hateful "chase ya peck ya if ya come close" kind of rooster. He had had his fun with a good number of my friends, and left a scar or two for memories sake, so needless to say, when the crazy fisherman made his suggestion he got overwhelming approval. Everybody really hated that rooster.
The rooster, being smarter than a crowd of drunk fishermen, decided it was time to get outta Dodge and proceeded to make a run for it instead attacking. He ran those guys around and around that house, first one way than the other. Once in a while he would throw a loop and run around and among the parked cars. I think he really enjoyed the "clunk thunks" he could hear when a fisherman didn't cut the corner close enough and ran into a fender or something. And i know he really loved the cursing and swearing, the "OWE!" and the "DAMN THAT HURT" he was hearing. Did i tell you, he was one mean rooster? And smart?
The rooster won. He got away and was never seen in my yard again. But, you had to keep an eye out if you were walking past a certain alley in town. He had moved in.
As for the fishermen. They got their exercise that day. They also got cuts, bumps, bruises, headaches and even one loose tooth.
Did they learn a lesson? Have you ever seen a fisherman learn a lesson?
Oh, do i have some stories.

My sister

2010-04-13T09:01:00.000-07:00

In 1982 i moved to Homer, Alaska. A long way from my home ground on the Oregon coast. I stayed for 14 years.
For 13 years i didn't see any of my family. My mother had died just before i left Oregon, and i was lost. I was almost 40, but losing her was a horrible blow. While i was in Alaska my father died, one sister and my grandmother, aunts, uncles, all died. My family was moving on without me saying goodbye.
In 1994 i had saved up enough money to make a visit home. My sister, Judy, was to meet me at the airport in Portland. She drove from her home in Sutherlin to pick me up. It had been 13 years since i had seen her.
When i stepped off the plane i looked around, looking for that familiar face, and there, behind a group of waiting people, was this woman. She had her hands waving in the air, she was jiggling up and down, crying, laughing, hopping from one foot to the other. She rushed me, grabbed me up and hugged hugged hugged.
My fear of not being accepted again was out the window. This was acceptance. This was love.
I stayed with her for a month before i was off again, back to Alaska. That month was wonderful. I saw places i had loved, people i had loved, and found a new place in the family.
In 1996 i moved back home, and have been here since. It is where i want to be now. The coast is 80 miles away, a short drive to breathe the sea air. Home.

This photo is my sister hug hug hugging me. She did that alot.

This post is for Tuesday's Unwrapped over at chatting at the sky.
For some reason i am un-able to get her blinkie . Sorry. Go to...
http://www.chattingatthesky.com/2010/04/12/pink-on-a-tuesday/

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My son.

Summer will come.

My son.

2010-04-13T08:15:00.000-07:00

In 1968, when i was 22, i gave birth to a boy baby. He was way early and weighed less than 3 pounds. He was tiny.
When he came out he was taken away before i got to see or feel him. I remember a little sound, like the squeaking of a mouse, and he was gone. I didn't get to touch him until i took him home at 52 days of age.
They put him in an incubator at the very back of the nursery. I would stand with my forehead pressed against the viewing window, trying to see him. Just a glimpse. Anything. A waving hand or kicking foot. I yearned for sight of my son. I wanted to hold him, smell him, hear his cry.
One day, at about 3 weeks, as i was standing there, the doctor came up to me. He asked if that was the closest i had seen the baby, i told him yes. He patted my shoulder and stepped into the nursery. He put on a gown and gloves and a mask, and amid the arguing of the nurses, he proceeded to push the incubator up to the window. He reached his hands, huge hero hands, through the holes and slid them under my son, raised him up so i could see him. He held that naked baby boy, turning him this way and that for me, so i could get a good look before i had to leave for home. Leaving him there again, until tomorrow, when i could come back and stand at the window during my lunch hour, waiting for a bit a movement from that incubator that was once again shoved to the back of the room.
I remember looking up at that doctor and thinking he must be my angel. He was over 6 foot tall, with black hair shot with white. His voice was deep and rumbly. His hands were so big, my son could lay in his palm. I know his name, it comes into my mind off and on, but for the life of me i can't remember it.
I never saw him again.