What a fool I've been (?)

Well, a friend posted this on her facey spacey timeline today, and it struck a familiar chord in me. 

There have been so many times over the last dozen years or so (truly, I think I've been haunted by this feeling for more like the last 20 years) where I question my level of stupidity and self-worth.

I can't recall < that sort of experience or memory, BUT I can vouch (with the help of hindsight) many times [stress M A N Y times] having been handed an opportunity that I let slip away because - as I told myself (convinced myself) - that it just couldn't be that easy.  Sometimes I can even envision myself not even letting those times 'slip away' so much as (I think) I ran from them.

MANY times something so wonderful and right up my ally, answer to my dreams, perfect for my skillsets, and *the EXACT* right thing I have always wanted to do with my life, materialized like a Stephen King fog and enveloped my path!  Like a gift, the perfect future was laid out before me and I thought to myself:

"This sort of thing just doesn't happen like this.  There must be a catch...or, this is a trick of some sort.  I'll be sorry if I accept the opportunity because it is just too good to be true."

Hindsight has slapped me hard, and I feel the splinters from God's 2x4 between my eyes.  I have been inattentive to His gift many times over because I did not feel the love with the offer, I only felt the shame of not being worthy.

I can only pray for one more chance, one more love tap of His 2x4 - one more chance to say, "Yes! Thank you."  

Do you think it will happen?  Will I recognize it for what it is and take the leap?

Does God love fools (enough)?

Well, that's me, then

May 19th... the day I had my heart attack.  The day my unstable angina sat up and proclaimed its power.  It was rude and sneaky and surprising, and not my favorite way to spend a morning - or that night - and on into the next day.

Once I arrived at the ER, blood was drawn to measure troponin levels, and that carried on every few hours.  Yes, every few hours throughout the remainder of the day AND all that night.  I must admit to having a favorite phlebotomist through it all, though; I detested when her shift ended and the replacement appeared.  Even when the preferred vein closed down and she had to move to a new location, Elizabeta made the procedure a piece of cake.  The replacement was horrible, and created way more holes than she ever managed to siphon blood from.

Ah, well.  Water under the bridge.

When I fell, though, at home (I passed out trying to walk to the living room), Karl did his best to keep me from hitting the floor (no mean feat, that).  I managed to hit my head twice, however. 

The first blow resulted from a rollicking bounce - I impacted his bedroom door frame with my left shoulder, then slammed backwards unexpectedly into the other side of the frame... and met that with my head.  Karl's description of what happened immediately after is a little chaotic, but he says I continued to shuffle forward, becoming more and more wobbly.

Somehow the migration to the front room carried on in a somewhat forward fashion, until I seemed to crumple in his arms.  Karl said he heard what he took for snoring coming from me, until he smelled something like vomit and realized my head was bent in an uncomfortable angle to my neck and shoulders.  That's when I slipped through his arms and 'found' the floor.  Yup, you guessed it, my head hit another wooden surface, and Karl needlessly apologized several times (after I came to) for that accident.  He tried to soften the blow, but I was a lot of human heading to the ground with gravity on my side.

Soon enough he realized I wasn't breathing "well," and forcefully jerked me to a sitting position when rolling me to my side didn't work.  It wasn't long thereafter that I came to and we discussed what had just happened... because I 'wasn't there'.

Just so you know, I don't hold Karl responsible in any way for the concussion - which went undiagnosed by the ER team - and everyone on the Cardiac Unit - despite my descriptions of the bizarre auditory occurrence (thousands of locusts loudly buzzing... while on fire), the louder than usual ringing in my ears, the non-stop headache, the room pitching madly whilst I am still, being light-headed, and a very steady double vision in my right eye.

You should also know this all may have happened due to a good deal of stress over the recent results (just the week before) of a CT showing an "apple core" shape in my ascending colon.

Oh, yeah, probably should do a little filling in.  Re-cap of the untold:
- Had significant, escalating discomfort for a couple weeks which felt like a hernia (not an unfamiliar sensation);
went to doctor.
- Told by physician it was not a hernia and most likely appendicitis;
was sent for CT scan to see how inflamed appendix was.
- CT showed long appendix, but no issues there (and no hernia); but
doc overly concerned by "apple core" appearance, so sent for GI consult and colonoscopy.

All of this had me on the edge of my seat - but more about the pooper chute stuff another time.

I feel God is using the universe as a two-by-four to get my eyes open wide, and to get me heading in the direction I have been side-stepping/avoiding/ignoring/wasting time by denying for far too long.  I can only imagine Him sitting up there, shaking His head in disbelief and smacking His forehead in frustration, while I continue to avoid my destiny in cunningly stupid, and innocently disbelieving ways.

Maria, we need to talk.  For now, I need to stop this typing and shut my eyes again.  I am supposed to be resting them to try and get a handle on the healing process from the recent brain injury. 

It's been a wild week, in more ways than one

It was as though I could feel the biological clock ticking for Click - "Click" being the name we gave our drowsy, confused, nocturnal upstairs-turned-downstairs drop-in house guest. Not knowing whether it was male or female, "Click" seemed the safest moniker to bestow, and, as there were no objections, "Click" it was... er, um... IS.
Oh, yeah, and it's a girl, everybody!
As I was droning:
...every hour labored by, and I grew concerned over how much time was passing, hurting Click's chances for returning successfully to her torpor. Let's face it, a bucket in a cold laundry closet versus wedging oneself between layers of insulation and a warm ceiling in an attic are hardly matching states of temperatures and conditions. Plus, she's now no longer able to self-regulate her own physical condition successfully, so that stress was taking a toll on her fat reserves and chances of survival.
You see, you don't feed or water a bat - or any animal - in that somewhat awakened state of hibernation, you let them be. But this was an exception to the rule of wildlife happenstance. Click had managed to self-regulate herself in torpor from her cozy attic digs into our living space, complete with much warmer temperatures - and cats! Her odds had changed drastically for the worse in the twitch of a wing. I knew it was critical to keep her safe, and to also keep her cool - but how much cooler was cool enough?

Now you understand why that biological clock wasn't just ticking away - it was pounding like the inner workings of Big Ben. The window of opportunity for her making it through the week, let alone the winter, were slipping away.
This all began Tuesday, late in the day, as best we can narrow down the timeline. 'The twins' (Odin and Booker, for those of you not as familiar with our furry family) had probably followed the scratching noises of Click's movements above their heads most of the day, until she squoze herself through a recessed light fixture into our area.
Karl noticed Booker was fixated on something in the window (probably) much later in the day, and eventually Karl let me know that "something odd [was] hanging on the curtains - and it's clicking at me!"
Was it a moth or some other bug? I asked him. No, no. Perhaps a frog? No, and that's when he mentioned the noise; I told him it sounds like he was describing a bat. He said it didn't look like a bat, so I told him to look behind the drape panel (I still could not visualize how it was hanging from the drapes through our phone call) - and then he shrieked like a man. There was a lot of noise from his end of the phone, some his, some furniture he was crashing into, and some was the terror of the twins as they reacted to Karl's surprise.
The poor little thing was moving to conceal itself from approaching danger - things that would eat it. Confusion and noise (lots of both), and I was missing out; I can only imagine what it all looked like. [hilarity ensued]
I won't bore you with the ins and outs of the capture procedure - suffice to say you would have thought it an episode of I Love Lucy and not some random house on a quiet neighborhood street, with a loose bat evading two grown humans and two vigilant cats.
We made as many calls to numbers we could quickly locate that evening, just in hopes of getting some fast explanations on how to proceed, or where to take it for a safe return to the wild once warmer weather arrived - MONTHS from now. There's a Bat Conservancy organization in MI, for crying out loud - I know because I had planned to attend a huge presentation only the year before. How come I wasn't getting any of this info from anyone? Better still, why weren't any of the three advertised 24-hour 'call us any time' numbers taking calls at 8:45PM?
Internet wisdom suggested securing it without hurting it, or putting pets or humans at risk, and keeping the critter cool (but in a house?). We couldn't manage the 35*-40* (and we were not going to place the bat-in-a-bucket in the 'frig), but we could get a mid-fifty range to help a little towards the metabolic requirement. So, off to the lower level laundry closet it went.
Wednesday passed with a lot of web searching and phone calls. Hand-wringing was also a key part of the goings-on, but there wasn't much more we could do for the diminutive cutie except pray and continue to beat the bushes. With no access to my fb account while at work, suggestions stacked up and anything I could find online dried up with each phone call. I grew more concerned that there was no good plan coming to fruition in favor of our at-risk intruder. All the answers I received were either, "no, wrong number," "kill it, it has rabies," or "you've reached a non-working number." Infinitely frustrating.
One suggestion was to throw it outdoors, with the theory being it would quickly find a warm place - but I just couldn't bring myself to that end. Oh, maybe, had it been over forty degrees and no nighttime temps in the twenties, perhaps I would have had a less guilty attitude (and fewer thoughts of committing murder) and done that. But it wasn't and they weren't....so another night in the can ensued - along with the guilt and helpless feeling of this little bats' fate balancing precariously in my hands.
Knowing full well it was most likely now not in full torpor, and that it now most likely required water - if not food - I reasoned I would go to the local pet shop for some insect take-out on Thursday...no matter what.
Lest you think/ask why I didn't simply return the sweetie back to the attic, let me explain my thought process. If Click did manage to return to torpor and then back to more of a successful hibernation state, I had my doubts that due to the past 2 days of calorie-burning full heart rate and breathing (and warm temps), she didn't physically have what would have been necessary to sustain her through the rest of winter any longer. At least, that was how I felt.
I am a worrier - there, I said it.
If I did return her to the attic, would she succumb to the combination of what had transpired; would we find her remains later? Would she be barely alright through all of winter only to be too weak to make it out in the spring and die then? I just couldn't take that chance with her life. It wasn't my life to toy with, but it *was* my responsibility to help her.
__Fast forward to Thursday, because I fell asleep reading Wed night.__
On the drive to work, I dialed the one number I saw any quick hope in, and left a voice message. The person I called returned my message with a fantastic response, and I cheered several times as I parked the car and ran inside.
Buoyed for the rest of the day, I had a tough time making eight hours not seem like eighty, and I called Karl periodically to have him spot-check Click's condition. Now that I knew there was a huge positive chance, I had Karl put a container of water in the bucket. Click was going to be alright - I hoped.
Managing to peel myself away from work one hour later than I wanted to, I flew home to gather up Karl and Click to make the nearly one hour trip to the land of bat salvation. And, yes, I am going to continue being somewhat cryptic throughout this explanation, for reasons which will become obvious (to the smarter ones out there). Just kidding, because all my friends are pretty doggone brilliant.
There are only two trained/qualified/licensed/approved caretakers of wildlife creatures, such as Click, in the state of chaos (a.k.a. MI), and fortunately this person resides not too horribly far from me. Let that sink in - one of only two! There are way more needful creatures than can be cared for by two people. There's something wrong with these odds, people.
Lemme see if I can correctly describe the rehabbing dilemma in the state of Michigan. If I get it wrong, in part or in whole, a knowledgeable person can feel free to correct me. While bats are a protected species because of population decline - for many MAN-MADE reasons, it is illegal to care for them when an issue has been identified and care is required. The state will require training and licensing and reviews and fees, and all of that hoo-ha and folderol and more, but makes it illegal to actually perform the deed. Bureaucracy and hypocrites are kissing cousins!
Anyway, the long and the short of it is (I know, it's far too late for "the short of it") that our new friend - AND HERO - has taken Click into her care (no, I will not say 'under her wing'), adding to a fantastic community of rescued bats, who are over-wintering in a fabulous bat resort. I am now a small part of the bat underground, and will proudly help their cause in any way I can. Our rescuer gave Click a complete physical and sexed her, telling us she is a MI Large Brown Bat, I would have figure a small variety, but nope...Large Brown Bats are small, and Small Brown Bats are smaller, yet.. LOL
Click ate 15 mealy worms, which is good! She is a yearling, and was on the emaciated side of the scale, but will rebound nicely, and will be returned to the world in the spring once the weather mellows enough for the bugs to become plentiful and life-sustaining for beautiful little creatures like Click.
God bless the rehabbers of the world - they are few and far between, but they make such a huge difference in their own ways; their compassion has no bounds for those with no voice. I am blessed to know six, and number them among my friends. I am proud to be a batty subversive!

People. Go figure.

Somewhere over the last 48 hours I received a comment on the ol' blog (which wasn't your ordinary, everyday SPAM, and which I haven't approved), and it had nothing to do with the posting 'commented' on. 

Nothing to do with me. 

No questions; no suggestions (terse or otherwise) regarding a previous issue I may have posted; no "how-do-you-do" or similar pleasantries. 

Just an invitation.  Yes, I am aware Stevie Nicks said: "Just an invitation would have been just fine," but in this case....it wasn't.

Woo me!  Yes, I used the word "woo."

- - - - Sorry, I seem to have wandered off topic.

Wait, I think I may have misspoken, too.  In fact, this annoying 'comment' was a suggestion - after a fashion.

The non-comment comment said simply: "you are invited to follow my blog" (Yes, I included the punctuation he used.)

Well, I am pretty certain if I wanted to follow a blog I wouldn't have to wait for an invitation.  Most folks would be happy to have others flock to their blog and click on the old "follow" button without having to ask.  But to troll the blogways and willy-nilly tell people "you are invited to follow my blog" without the thoughtfulness of the act of reciprocity, well.....[sputtering and harrumphing]. 

Where's the rationale'?  Where's the touch of friendliness....the human interaction of the suggested transaction?

See, here's the thing -
 If you are already counting several hundred (or thousand) people who 'follow' your blog, and you are inviting someone else to join in, try an email invitation as opposed to a fake comment.  Start a 'conversation' instead of employing the Jehovah's witness tactics and methodology, Steve, and allow those new acquaintances to make their own decisions based on other factors over the course of a few emails. 

Personally, I tend to respond better to a straightforward and honest approach. 

Of course, if you tip-toe and pussyfoot around a subject I tend to 'get' that sort of thing too, but I prefer to get to know someone using a variety of information, and I make my decisions based on a lot of external data.  I shy away from overt BS and those using overt BS.  I make exceptions for friends because, by the time they are friends, you have come to know and understand all of the cues and subtleties (and not-so subtleties) of the friendship dynamic.

By the way, when your reply to my "no thank you" response to your (initial) 'comment' arrived from an alter-email-ego named "Steve Player".....I thought to myself, "case closed!"

Steve PLAYER.  Such an anything-but-Christian nom de plume.

Yes, by all means, share the word of God, but try introducing yourself in a different way.  Hammers and caveman clubs don't get it for me.  Maybe it works on those more simpleminded or less cynical.

Dear Moore, OK -

My thoughts and prayers, and those of my family, are with you all throughout this time.

God be with you -

Beth

It bears repeating

Whatever you make up your mind to do, just dive in and begin. 
Don't doubt yourself, and don't allow the words of others to sway you from your desires -

no matter what "it" may be.

I'll take it!

Bright and sunny, with beautiful blue skies - I'll take it!

Turned on the boob tube late, but in time to hear the last words of Joel Osteen's advice to let go of comments and negativity that brings me down or holds me back - I'll use that!

A chance to enter my art quilt into a prize-winning show I hadn't counted on - I'll take it!

Another opportunity to re-invent myself (or, add to my skill sets) - I'll do that!

The possibility to smile while my hands are busy and my brain is sharp - I'll take it!

The good feelings that come with hugging your sons and telling them you're proud of them - I'll give and take it!

Trying to squeeze more out of the growing daylight hours and not waste time - I'll try that!

To be a blessing and to count my blessings - I'll do that!

Lists

Things I Need:

New fridge (old one is laboring and the seals are shot)

New dryer (old one sounds like a trash compacter running inside a cement mixer)

The new stove to be hooked up and working (requires wiring to be completed)

Things I Want:

The staircase finished

The kitchen finished

All the wiring to be completed, drywall done and to be able to paint (and put things away - I guess this should actually go under "needful things")

The lower level bathroom to be an actual bathroom (instead of a concrete sub-floor and plumbing pipes sticking out everywhere)

Air conditioning (and a dehumidifier for winter)

A new, energy-efficient furnace

Chinking on the house to be done (top to bottom and side to side)

Under both of those lists would go "job", but that really isn't a "thing" so much as a necessity (however, I do NEED and WANT one very badly). And for some reason, it also didn't feel like anything I should add to this sort of list. But, then again, there is an awful need for me to compile this next list, which also really doesn't fit in with the first two.

Things To Be Thankful For:

My family - my sons and my mom

My mom

Good friends (you are most certainly a blessing)

This house (which I still have because of my mother's love and sacrifice)

A working car (also due to my mom)

Fairly good health

Both of my sons' good health, working bodies, beautiful minds, abilities and possibilities

Food for the table

Power and heat

Extended family (I love you all)

A bright and working brain

The talents I have been blessed with

The future my Lord has been making ready for me

A country like America to live in (as messed up as it is)

Desires and dreams which keep me going every day

The chances I have taken and the opportunities I have been afforded

What I have learned about myself over these last 4.5 years

Can't tell you how glad (and thankful) that I am to see that my "thankful list" far exceeds my other two. Ooo!!! Add that to the list!

Definition of a miracle

For those dozen or so bystanders in Utah, who lifted a car off of an accident victim before he could burn to death, thank God!

If you haven't seen the video online somewhere, or heard the story on your morning news... it is remarkable!  It was humanity.  It was a miracle!

A young man on a motorbike was struck by an SUV (or large model car).  The bike erupted into flames upon impact, while the motorcyclist was pinned under the car with no way to escape. 

Pedestrians approached the car to try and move it off of the man, to no avail.  First one and two, then five people.  Not certain if the man was even still alive, many people had a hard time simply standing by while a body burned - dead or not.

Quickly, a young woman dropped to her stomach near the flames to get a better view of the biker to see if, in fact, the man was still alive.  When she saw movement she called out to the growing crowd, who then swarmed the vehicle, forcing it up high enough - and long enough - for another person to grab a leg and pull the man from under the car to safety.

If that's not a miracle, then I don't know what would constitute one in this day in age.  People, we are all in this together.

P.S.   No, the biker was not wearing a helmet, but the latest news from the hospital is that despite fractures to his legs, hips (and pelvis, I think), there are no major or life-threatening injuries - he is expected to fully recover! 

Epiphany

Pretty certain I woke this morning after having an epiphany that was a little late in arriving.  But then, aren't epiphanies always late?

I guess I haven't done what I am supposed to have been doing during this whole time "off."  I am beginning to realize that perhaps God has been trying to get me to utilize His gifts more fully, and I've just finally heard the wake up call. 

Just finally felt the two-by-four to the cranium. 

Finally experienced the wet fish slapped across my mug. 

Finally seen the cow pattie splat-dab in my path (yes, I know it's "smack-dab" - my version is more sound effective).

I've finally tripped over my obvious 'lead twinkie'.

I've been questioning: "When is it going to be my turn?"  Maybe this is my turn and I am not recognizing it for what it is.

When I think about it in this way I become angry at myself for not having utilized the last four-plus years in a better fashion.  I am despondent over not having taken full advantage of the time allotted me to achieve the thing(s) God put me here to do.  How could I have wasted such a precious gift?

My entire adult life I have questioned how I am supposed to recognize God's hand in things.  I have been a classic doubting Thomas.

What if I've heard His whisper in my ear - felt that tingle of instruction and intervention, and had His push in a direction that I ultimately avoided taking because I didn't recognize it was Him?  Didn't recognize it was His will.  It's been this way at least the last 25 years, and now I am wracked with the pain and despair of knowing I have wasted more time than just the last four years.

I am filled with doubt.  Self-doubt, doubt in others and lack of faith - not in God, but in my abilities to make right decisions.  And now my doubt in myself has become gloom and deep regret and disappointment.

Oddly, my waking epiphany wasn't about my misdirection and false starts, it was that I should have mixed the flesh tone I wanted for my screen print using white as a base then adding a good dash of yellow and an even smaller touch of magenta.  The Pantone recipe was off....way off.

How I got to my current state of awareness I don't know, but I have arrived.  Thank God.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Turn and face the change!

You classic rock fans will recognize those scant lyrics, and if you don't (and you're of a "certain age"), kindly close the page, go take your Metamucil and have a seat in your rocker by the window.

Yesterday morning I went to the second support group meeting for ASD caregivers, and was suddenly caught off-guard by the realization that I was not there to get help (for Karl) so much as I was there to offer help and guidance for others with much younger children. These are folks who are just starting the maze of "what now?" who will be able to take advantage of [our] knowledge and experience and be able to push through the challenges of what will come for them - as parents of children with ASD.

Karl's journey is at a different point, and there is no turning back, there are no do-overs and no fixes or helping hands to ease the way for his adult years. He is a trailblazer (although so many more have gone before him, misdiagnosed and unrecognized as Aspys or those suffering ASD), but I intend to make these new parents stand up and take charge. DO NOT BE AFRAID TO SPEAK OUT FOR YOUR CHILD - THEY CANNOT DO IT FOR THEMSELVES!

There is no way to erase the frustration and torture that plagued Karl all throughout his young life at school and home, at playdates and family gatherings (and all points in between). And I am still only learning things about him that I didn't know.

Lord, please help me be a better parent for my sons.

I need help with the changes that are to come, and help preparing him for the future - with and without me in it.

Another dozen and a half down

By my count (in the dark garage) I have about twelve boxes to go before I have literally gone over everything trying to get together material for the sale.

Oh, and for the record, I tackled 26 boxes that first day. 26! I......am a monster!!!

With any luck I will be coming home with far fewer boxes of books to put away. Even if I only manage to sell half of the stock I am taking, I would be satisfied...but I KNOW I am going to sell a lot more. It's in the Master plan.

Made Brian come out to the garage and move his tires from the middle of the floor to right next to the door, so tomorrow (or Wednesday) he can get them loaded into his car and up to the mechanic, to swap with the wretched old (bald) tires he's been riding around on for easily the last year. One more thing checked off the list - yea!

The rest of the week is pretty full, and I am going to need all of the daylight hours I can get my hands on to fit it all in. So, if you will excuse me, I am off to bed because I am bushed. I barely kept my eyes open for the last part of Castle - sheesh.

But that's OK, because I got a lot accomplished, and I worked hard for these sleepy eyes.

I was hoping...

...to post some of Karl's class work here.

Sadly, the blogger program won't upload the bits and pieces from his class work. :( They are mostly Flash projects or .jpgs, or small .mov files...but for some reason the uploads are stalling - and it isn't the sizes of the pieces being uploaded.

Perhaps this weekend I will load the items onto my YouTube account and set up links to them here - then all you need do is click on the link to view them...if you are so inclined.

In other news - it's grey and windy and beginning to look a lot like winter. Brrrr.

Brian's jeep is finally gone; he sold it to a low-balling scrapper, but it is now history as far as we are concerned. The person who bought it paid him cash Friday evening, and then said he'd be back to collect it on Monday - which he did! Bud made grown-up plans to use the cash to pay for his car insurance (for the next couple of months) and to replace his broken phone. Still, his expression was hard to look at, and his attitude was bleak for several days.

Once the vehicles pulled away Monday afternoon, Brian's melancholy grew, but there were pangs of relief mixed in with it all. Life lessons that leave you with a lot of knocks and bruises (and which take a great deal of money besides) are sometimes not easily gotten over. Hopefully, you retain the knowledge and take it to heart and you make better choices down the road. Hoping and praying.

Changes

Well, I have had a busy week, and not that I am not used to keeping busy, but the sources of my work and activities came from so many different directions and requirements that I had a hard mental time keeping up and not fretting about other things that didn't get touched.

Hopefully those untouched items won't bite me too hard on the rear end.Last night and today are the first times I have even gotten online since last week!  I wasn't even on the PC over the last 2.5 days, let alone looking at email or anything else - hello you FB people.

I am suddenly involved in an indie production happening in the D, after not having any contact from the producer in weeks and weeks.  As is the case, 'they' want your time and soul committed 100% to their cause immediately, and at the last moment - without warning.  My only real complaints are the distance to drive (in Brian's car - inconveniencing him) and the lack of pay - AGAIN!!  I am screwing up my nerve to broach the topic of compensation for the mileage.  Currently, I am required there a couple of times per week, but once preproduction is over and production begins (in two weeks) I will be the office PA (required to be there every day of production to answer phones and troubleshoot from homebase), and the two kids (who have been given the chance to kiss butt since February) will be set PAs.

I know putting your time in and networking and getting to know and be known is key, but geez!  How about a little thought on the production company's part towards my expending my capital and 'volunteering' my time for their glorification.  I am unemployed, and not a Rockafeller...I cannot support them in that fashion without feeling it in the end.  Something has to give and I would prefer it if it weren't my doggone overstretched budget!

Hello!!!!!  I am barely treading water as it is, and sometimes breaking the surface for a gasp of air to make the bills is a struggle without adding the expense of 'helping' local productions by using my dimes and nickels.

This is not the first time, and it most likely won't be the last time; and I wouldn't mind so much if I had some cushion in the bank or a way to supplement mom's $ help while doing these poor indies.  But really, can't somebody above the line understand "supporting the arts" is all fine and good, but if it means I am paying to work for you - you can start taking my name off of your contact list.

I know, I know.  Sour grapes.

Plus, I haven't had any time to sit and work on my reel (or any other projects of my own) in I don't know how long.  Being stationary (not going back to Livonia) should help, but now with this production ramping up, I am most likely still not going to be here enough to make any strides.

I planted seeds for the flower beds about 10 days ago...maybe more, and still no signs of any little sprouts, yet.  I need to plant the next two trays just to get that chore over with, and then make my way out to the yard to begin doing what is necessary to get rid of weeds and prepare the beds for the plants once they do sprout and grow to a good transplantable size.  Also, we are excited about planting veggies and herbs, again.

Keeping the kids on task is hard to do remotely.  Keeping them motivated is impossible whether I am here or there (wherever that may be).  Because they have dragged their feet about registering for summer classes, my fear about whether they will be able to take anything (now that I am bitching about it in their ears) is probably going to be a reality.  One more semester lost to apathy and lack of motivation.

Please, Lord, something has got to change.  I am ready to receive your blessings.  Thank you.

Monday, Monday...can't trust that day

Isn't it funny how some days you can wake up with a song in your head? I don't know where it comes from, but today, my song is a Mama's and Papa's tune from the sixties

"Monday mornin', you gave me no warnin' of what was to be...."

I called the house to be certain the boys were up and around - Karl has his second week of 'Soft Skills' work in Oak Park, and the transport driver will arrive as scheduled whether I am there or not, and today is Brian's day to be mother hen and get his little brother moving.

I was glad to find Bud had stepped up, even though I had not reminded either of them the night before about the deadlines and such...but I was most worried about Karl not having breakfast and not having provisions for lunch - whether he opted to visit his favorite deli or take something with, but they seem to have it under control....so today, I have to let go and believe/trust/have faith.

"...sometimes, it just turns out that way..."

What song is playing in your head today? Hope it's a good one, everybody.

Only time

So far, I have wept twice this morning as I begin another October day.

The sun is brilliantly lighting the sky, and it's rays are bouncing off the leaves on the trees. The golds and reds reflecting the light and multiplying it, illuminating the interior of my home in a promising way. You would think this sort of beauty would make you smile, open your heart and mind to happiness and hope.

You would think so.

No, the tears are due to heartbreaking stories. Words and images that touch a deeper place in my heart and resonate too vividly in my mind to avoid feeling that ache, even with the golden sun.

The first opportunity came while watching a story about a four year old girl - whose picture is circling the globe - because she couldn't let go of her father's hand as he fell in to formation, preparing to deploy to Iraq. She was with her family at a military base seeing her daddy off, when the troops were told to fall in. She followed him to the tarmac and hung on against all urging from her parents.

The image tugged at my heart and made me think of everybody who would do the very same thing if they could.

A little while later, I logged online and checked the usual places for more news and mail and greetings from friends, etc. I found news in one online community that a new friend had lost a brother over the last week due to an unfortunate accident, and is suffering this sudden loss along with her family.

A bright, enthusiastic, engaging young woman - I can't imagine her in the throes of this sort of grief.

Aside from losing my grandfather (far too early), I have not had to experience the death of a brother just yet. Thank you, God.

My heart was torn by thoughts of loss - as a mother and as a sibling.

Her brother Jack was, in her words, a Renaissance man...choosing a life of unconventionality. Not quite fitting in anywhere, but going where the wind blew him and choosing to enjoy life no matter what, wedging himself into the things and places he found interesting.

He was a scholarly person, a solitary soul, a happy man, a deep thinker, an adventurer and a member of a loving family. He wrote beautiful poetry and cyphered ancient languages. He lived.

And now, they grieve.

We go on after a loss such as this, knowing somehow things will return to a more normal state over time. The hole will never fully close, the pain will never fully subside, the loss will never totally leave our minds, but that's how we know we are still alive. We are here - we are left behind - so that those who have gone before will never be forgotten.

Only time can get us past this sort of moment in our lives.

Only time.

What will you do with yours?

Gin, my thoughts and prayers follow you, dear friend.

Ho-hum

Spent the last couple of days cleaning various closets and nooks, rearranging a kitchen "pantry" closet (tiny little thing) and one cupboard, while putting away the booty from our recent grocery shopping mission. And it never seems to stop, does it?

Karl has had to be pushed and pulled into finishing the project for class, which is due at 6pm sharp. Because his understanding and current skillset in Photoshop exceeds where the instructor is currently taking the class, he is bored out of his mind, so getting him to complete (OK, let's be real...getting him to sit and START the assignment) was a freakin' chore.

Compound the whole mess with the CS4 we have at home v. the CS3 at school, and you have something akin to a Stephen King novel nightmare. There are enough little differences between them to make it a bit of a pain, and despite our incredibly mammoth editing suite, the CS4 has glitches that make using the tool a hassle. Something is gorped with the functionality/response time (which just frustrated and distracted Karl to no end), so I can imagine a long phone call with a help desk rep in my future.

I have the same jerky issues while using Premiere Pro, so it may be something with the monster, too. It may solely be the monster and not the software, or it could be a combo...either way, I do not relish the idea of having to take the damn thing to Troy for a look-see.

Still working on gathering the paperwork to satisfy the MI Works/No Worker Left Behind program requirements. What a crock! My meeting date has moved from the end of September to the end of July, which I am taking as a good sign. I figure if I get it together quickly, I may be ready when they call one day soon to tell me it's been moved again to the end of June. Wouldn't that be groovy?!

C'mon, cosmic stars...align!

Until then, though, I will cut out dresses and tops to make and wear for the summer of fat, work on my gift for Gram's 98th birthday, continue to send out resumes and please-hire-me-cover letters, shepherd Karl to and from class, edit together new demos and pray for a call from a hiring manager.

All I really want to do right now is weed the garden.

Just keep learning

Kasey Kasem used to say "Keep reaching for the stars."

Huh.

Hmm.

I think you [we] must learn what you need to know about whatever it is that you want to do, and get to know yourself - inside and out. Once you are prepared, then reach for those stars.

Keep in mind, though, that sometimes, stars fall. And when that happens, those passengers clinging to all those stars better know how to operate their parachutes, or be able to bounce!

Jimminy Cricket: "When you wish upon a star...anything your heart desires will come to you."

Ri-i-i-ght.

But, didn't he also counsel and scold and cajole Pinocchio about his decisions and truthfulness and morals all along the way? Didn't he try like mad to keep the little toothpick thinking about making good decisions and listening to his conscience, and being a good example and a trustworthy citizen?

The answer you are searching for is "yes, he did those things."

Another little homily goes like this: "God never gives us more than we can bear," and I believe that is true. Although, the actual line is in reference to temptations, and that we are tested, but should always manage to overcome the tests and pitfalls with faith in the Lord and making the right moral decisions. But that comes from a belief in yourself, a knowledge of right and wrong and the ablility to make good decisions, and having faith. Faith in yourself...faith in whatever higher power you believe in...and faith in your family, friends and 'neighbors'.

Where is this all going?

I have no clue, I got lost myself while writing it...but it made perfect sense until the words hit virtual paper.

Kids, don't type on pain meds.

Mahalo.

If yesterday was Good Friday...

...does that make today "Somewhat Satisfactory Saturday"?

Tomorrow is Easter - a day for parading around New York City in stylish chapeaus; searching for colored eggs in yards and parks all across America; grazing on roasted lamb, honey-glazed hams and scalloped potatoes 'til you need to unbutton your trousers (almost like a Thanksgiving-lite sort of thing); a day for reflecting on new beginnings and the one person who sacrificed and suffered for everyone. I guess that last one is more for the grown-up people in the audience than anyone else, although children do seem to get the concept far easier than we do.

Tomorrow is the day for another chance.

New possibilities.

A Christian do-over.

And - if the world were a little more perfect - tomorrow would see the beginning of a humankind 'do-over.' Wouldn't that be the coolest thing - people exercising no restraint in the acts-of-kindness department, and practicing extreme self-control in the need to 'stick-it' to somebody/anybody/everybody else?

• More love, less loathing.
• More tolerance, less judging.
• More acceptance, less condemnation.
• More sharing, less greed.
• More mentoring, less every-man-for-themselves.
• More team work, less backstabbing.
• Less restrictions, more helping hand-ups (not hand-outs).
• Less violence.
• Less fear.
• Less anger.
• Less blaming.
• More accountability.
• More village mentality.
• More fellowship.
• More healing.
• More peace.

Can we get there? Are we capable as a species? I don't know any more...I just don't know. I'd like to think so, but as I read the news online and in the press, and watch the horrible things happening around the world, it's hard to see where anyone would want to jump on the bandwagon and begin. Everyone seems more likely to say: "I'll drop my fist when that guy takes a step back," or, "I'll lower my gun after they put theirs down first," and this extends itself to all corners of the globe, in every aspect of daily lives - whether on the battlefield or in the supermarket parking lot. Boardrooms to gradeschool classrooms. Across all financial levels, from no income to the very well off.

If you would think of the earth as a ship sailing in a vast sea, please try to remember we are all in the same boat.

Don't pee in the pool, don't neglect to wash your hands, don't forget to smile and say hello to the next guy, cover your nose/mouth when you cough and sneeze, and don't forget to thank God every day.

We don't have to wait for Good Friday to practice being good.

Updates

New baby - Congratulations are in order for the Stedmans - Tiffany and the latest cousin-in-law had a daughter over the weekend...Madison McKenzie. I can't even begin to tally the great grand kids, now, but I do know that there is at least one other cousin expecting in the near future (although I seem to remember there are two more cousins expecting winter/spring)!

Cleo is suffering with a good sized bladder stone and struvite crystals, again. The blood in her urine tells me she is uncomfortable, and her lack of playfulness (despite Hobbes hilarious attempts to lure her into a round of Box-tag-hide-n-seek) is another indicator that our robust little dog-cat is not at all well. She is on pain meds, and unless we hear from the vet today, we are happy that this is all and that there is no corresponding infection to deal with. She is a totally social little critter, and it pains me to have to separate the three of them to feed the special diet to her, and the regular chow to Flop and the walking stomach.

Just this afternoon Cleo finally ate a good amount of the prescribed wet food. She can also have [no more than] a 1/4 cup per day of the prescribed dry chow - it is terribly oily and not appropriate for the other two girls, so I am trying to be clever about how Clee gets hers and when I feed the non-patients. Her urine output is slow, but it at least exists...although usually tinged with, or full of blood. If she stops drinking and urinating totally, then it will be time to make a very hard decision.

Cleared the driveway - AGAIN - but the pavement is getting harder to find away from the house. However, as long as I can keep the snow level and smooth and the snowbanks wide enough apart, I am not concerned with being able to get boys to work or school. It's about all the exercise I am getting anyhow, so it's a good thing. It is invigorating (to say the least), and somewhat satisfying to see progress and accomplishment (and sort of amusing to bury Brian's truck at the same time).

On the job front - No other word from any of the last round of resumes and inquiries. It is only mid-January, and I am well aware if the current job market being slim pickings to begin with. So, no, I am not really expecting any sort of hiring miracle to pop out of the woodwork as soon as this (or in February, for that matter). Once new year budgets and 2008 taxes are out of the way, businesses will get down to the business of hiring (if there is work to be had). Until then I will keep trying, and will pester some places a little more than others, but I know that when it is time, and the right thing is out there, the Lord will guide me to it.

OCC - The boys have each had their first week of classes for the winter semester, and I am keeping my fingers crossed for successes there. Thus far the transportation thing has not been bad, and Mom's Taxi Service is working out well enough.

By-the-by...Karl had fun this weekend playing a Nintendo/Mario game tournament-style with several friends at Elliot's. Hat's off to Becky (Elliot's mom) for hosting the hoard of gaming dudes. :^)

Haircut - I am headed to the Royal Oak salon I won the $45 haircut from (through a contest with 105.1FM), and will have a new 'do on Friday afternoon! Huzzah! The perm frizz from the June attempt at a fun hairstyle is hanging on something fierce, and refuses to be tamed any more...so it is going bye-bye the hard way.

And speaking of "goodbyes"...

Change - Well, here we are. Finally saying goodbye to the Bush regime. Hopefully the nation will begin to heal and grow, turning itself around with the beginning of a new Camelot. Mr. Obama promised we can, and I think everyone is holding their breath with hopefulness on the tips of our tongues that we actually can, and will, make change happen.

Happy days, people. Let's practice patience and tolerance and let go of bigotry and hatred. Put on your bias goggles and color blinders, and forget that the color of your skin (or any body's skin) or the accent in one's voice has anything to do with anything. It's no more acceptable (or intelligent) to assume that someones color should be a reason to hold them back - or exalt them to a higher lifestyle and presence - than should their religious beliefs or depth of their pockets.

Our president was elected to lead the country, to serve the populace, to save, preserve and represent America...let's help him help us!