Friday, September 27, 2019

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The Liar and the Moderate Witless Terrorist

   Before you read this, if you intend to read it, know it is not about real people. These are figments of my imagination.  As far as I know, there are no real liars or witless moderate terrorists.  I made them up.  They don't exist.  The painting is of a friend who posed.  Again, this is a imaginary story.

   Once upon a time, a couple composed of a liar and a moderate witless terrorist crossed my path. They looked like normal people, so I smiled.  They smiled back until I said, "No", to cutting down the trees. They declared war. First, they called the army. The liar made up wild stories she said I did. The army believed her. The couple stole my porridge and my refrigerator and told the army the ants did it and the army believed them.  When I called the army, the officers said, "Back off!"  I died.  In my sleep, I painted ugly evil people and the liar said I painted them.  The American President didn't care so the liar and the moderate terrorist went to the pharmacist, who sent me bottles of poison.  Another pharmacist liked my paintings and told the liar and the terrorist I would never cut down the trees and they could lay down and die.  I was very happy, but the experience had been a bad one.  I had to go back to school to learn how to live and breathe.  I'm doing my homework now.  Probably for a long time.
I have so much to learn.
  When the war started, back in 2013, Lupus came back.  It was easy.  I had purchased anxiety years before at the Horn and Hardart Automat.  It was on sale, only $.05.  Cheap.  Seventy percent off.  I brought it home and nobody noticed.  I looked the same, but my fingernails were shorter.  In 2013, I was on a boat at Bermuda getting drunk on Ukrainian Lemon Vodka from my Ukrainian "niece".  The boat landed in Los Angeles and I found the moderate terrorist had popped psychedelic mushrooms close to Harry's mouth.  Harry couldn't remember, but he told a general he knew from Philadelphia.  It was something to remember.  I set out walking home.  I had to protect the dog.  When the rain hit in Oklahoma, I hitched a ride back to the Pacific.  I felt safer there.  In the end, I had to get back to my garden, regardless of Lupus and tired feet.
  Lupus will forever be a problem, but I did win the Lupus Lottery.  I could be dead, or on the way further.  I'm not.  I say, with more education, I will be wiser.  The liar and the witless terrorist are happy being a liar and a witless moderate terrorist.  They are on Broadway and have fans.  Sometimes, I think I feel their eyes, but it's only cat hair.  My heart tells my brain to register them for the Irish Sweepstakes and leave them on the spaceship, but my feet are stuck and they remind me.  I am  Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom (and Warfare).  My compassion runneth over. I am all that. And less, depending on the hour and the food.
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Sunday, August 11, 2019

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All Sold and Selling just now

When it rains, it pours.  That's how it's gone for me.  Suddenly, all of these just sold, or are selling.   It's a shock.

Monday, August 05, 2019

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Lupus At 71

Atlantic City Couple June 2019, Mixed Media,  10 x 8", by Jaynee LevyPolis

Saturday, July 06, 2019

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Lupus Can Attack Anywhere

Lupus....  I should have realized as soon as I saw Irritable Bowel Syndrome is caused by the Central Nervous System.  Most of the problems I've had were nervous system snafus.  Lupus can effect any organ, joints, hair, etc.  It's not unusual for Lupus to kill its victims.  I've known lots of people who fought it, but eventually, succumbed.  I've been very lucky with Lupus.  I either had bosses who wanted to help, or I somehow escaped the notice of ones who didn't.  Before I was diagnosed in 1993, I remember lying on my office sofa, exhausted and sick.  How did no one see me, or knock on my door?
  I had to retire at 58, I could no longer do the work.  The complicated new computer program was impossible for me.  I was so depressed.  It broke my heart.  Lupus had effected my ability to focus sufficiently to learn.  My memory had holes too.   I wanted to remember how I handled cases, but couldn't.  Where I put things became a mystery.  I still suffered from bouts of nausea, joint pain, and more.  That job lasted sixteen years and it was the best I'd ever had.  Our son hadn't finished college yet and I was paying.  (It worked out.)
  Retiring turned out to be healthy for me..  Eventually, we moved to a house with only thirteen steps in total and a quarter acre of land. 
   I love the trees and my garden in the backyard is wonderful.  The back gate leads to a shallow park and field.  If the weather is temperate, and I feel okay, I walk Tuesday there.  We've lived here for thirteen years and I thought my lupus was in remission.  I didn't realize it just changed direction.  Doctors usually either blame all our ills on Lupus, or judge each ailment as separate, and unrelated to Lupus.  Moving to Delaware meant I had to leave my Rheumatologist because he was up in Bucks County, about 70 miles away.  I'm a poor historian.  I tend not to state all my problems.  It took years to find a rheumy I liked.  I've never found a replacement.  I did keep my neurologist.  He's the doctor I'll discuss this IBS with.  With Lupus, when we find docs who listen to us, we have to keep them.  I fell through the cracks often enough to be ruthless.  We have to be.
  Before I was diagnosed, I was a nervous system scholar.  I spent years in the Regional Library researching what was attacking me.  My brain is not as sharp now. Nevertheless, I am resolute.  

#Lupus  #LivingWithLupus #LifeWithLupus #LifeWithAutoimmuneIllness #MildLupusLife #IBSandLupus #LupusIBS


Friday, March 29, 2019

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  It's been a very long time since I've posted.  In the meantime, we moved to Delaware, were blessed by two granddaughters, and continued to paint and exhibit.  My Lupus went into remission except for short term flares related to stress.  I had my first and only hospitalization for Lupus and a couple of seizures. These last two years had too much stress. Nobody wanted to hear me complain about the same nonsense over and over.  I felt threatened, and until I got help, I was endangering myself.
  I don't hate anybody.  I've been lucky and I'm very grateful.  I had my garage broken into and work stolen, but I've had work stolen before.  I think this time someone thought my nudes would be a turn on and was disappointed to learn, they usually funny, not porn. Insurance paid me for them which was nice.  I hadn't expected to sell so many. 
  For a few years, there has been a piece of life that was difficult and uncomfortable. I always avoid people who want to fight, but at the same time, I fight with anyone who wants to take advantage of me.  I never understood why the people who were doing that thought it was right and an argument blossomed into a feud.  I should have realized.  I worked with people who reported colleagues, who would sue when their desires weren't honored.  One woman would freak if another person's holiday decorations got on her cubicle wall by accident.  I'm grateful I never heard from her after I retired.  I worked with some exceptional people.  One of my favorites was a WWII war hero.   We used to talk old movies and did projects together.  It was a political department, and not every person was terrific. We had all sorts of drama, a lot of which was funny.  Every week, my cousin Jerry took the train into my Center City Philly office, and met me for lunch.
  In 06, we lost Jerry, who I adored my whole life.  He was the older brother who held my hand and walked me to kindergarten.  He taught me to play chess and was my confidant.   I'd give all my work to have him back for a day.  When we lose people we love, life changes.  I've lost three best friends over these years.  I would never have guessed.  It's lonely without them.  That doesn't mean I'm desperate for friends.  I'm picky.  Too many people take no responsibility for their behavior.  They believe they're victims.  Not for me.  Lots of people have no introspection.  Also not for me.  I'm working to get my head in gear now, my last chance before I kick the bucket. 
  Recently, someone I hardly know said she liked my stories.  I was stymied.  I never told her any stories.  Then, I realized she must have read them here.  She might see herself in what I say, but I hope she understands, if she reads this, that she is mistaken believing I would want to hurt her.  Or that I think she's stupid, or ignorant, etc.  I've had friends who had intellectual disabilities.  It's what is in a person's heart, and their character, not their brains, that makes them attractive.  I'm not brilliant, but yes, I do love to talk with somebody smarter.  If that person is a snob, they can keep the talk.  I'm not interested.
  Something weird happened too.  I've never had anyone previously say they were in my paintings.  That happened last year.  One painting I did for therapy~yes, I do that~turned out to look like every person who looked a certain way.  Luckily, only one person complained.  I never showed those paintings except to other artists on the internet.  If I'd been asked, I would have taken them offline, which I did later when I found out how upset they were.  Using Art as therapy can be helpful.  I usually draw what troubles me but I've been working and exhibiting with a group of other Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts graduates and their work has inspired me.  They are such talented artists, I'm so grateful to have them as friends. I draw with them regularly in addition to drawing around here.
  I'm hoping to host a couple of the other artists this spring.  I'd like to share my garden with them.  I planted a garden in our Delaware house.  It's a lovely place to meditate or work.  We Lupies need our calm.  I highly recommend spending time in the trees among plants.  If it's feasible, it helps to see a therapist so we can decrease stress.  Stress brings on all the autoimmune diseases.  Talking with a therapist isn't weakness, it's sensible because we have a death~dealing illness, and as a bonus, we get greater awareness. 
  I'll try to write more and not allow years to go by again.  Thank you for reading this.  Feel free to write to me at

Thursday, September 04, 2014

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  My computer needs to be restarted.  It's acting strangely and I know.... It's bedtime.  I had things to do I never did and won't do now.  Tomorrow is busy so I probably won't do them tomorrow either.  I didn't paint today. I forgot.  I dug holes late this afternoon after it got a little cooler.  Not cool enough, but I did it.  I stepped in one of the holes I dug a couple of months ago.  I dug lots of holes then in the lawn adjacent to next door.  I don't want to see our neighbors.  They turned out to be a problem.  I can't even describe what's wrong with them and certainly not why.  I don't know, but it is what it is.
  I've propagated some Verbena and at least one Lilac plus other shrubs and flowers.  As the weather cools, I'll be planting them.  I'm trying to make some kind of setting, not a mess.  Out front on that piece I mentioned, right now, it's a mess with tons of different plants.  I like everything blooming or green.  No mulch or spaced plants.
  My studio looks out onto my back garden.  The front is a step-child. The back is my baby.  My patio is pretty private.  One side is blocked by the garage and the other by tall Roses of Sharon.  That neighbor could still look out her window and see me.  I'm not hiding. That's okay.  I lounge around in good weather and read out there.  Today, I sat on the deck, drank my coffee and just looked at the treetops.  Coming from rowhouses all my life, this is heaven, even with bad neighbors.  (I was SO upset. I'm just starting to feel better and it's been since the beginning of July.  With Lupus, I'm worried about stress and depression. I feel like I lost two months of my life and going out west.  That worry never left my mind. There's actually a law against harassing old people down here, but it's treated like a law about watering dray horses.) So...I have the garden and a house bigger than I've ever had before.  It's easier to keep clean than the old rowhouse with carpeting.  The cats and dog shed like crazy so there's always floating fur congregating on the steps.  I hate that so I clean it, but it's not that time consuming.  I don't expect myself to clean overmuch; I'm 66.  
  As an older woman, I get "Honeyed, Dearied, and Sweetied" in restaurants. That's fine. I like it.  It's an easier life.  I get to paint and garden.  So maybe life will return to a normal now that the neighbors put up a fence. (They forced us to take ours down.)  It's a nice fence and my garden is coming along.

Monday, August 05, 2013

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Fading Into the Woodwork and Surviving Well

Fading Into the Woodwork is Tolerable
Well, I not popular in school,  I was quiet, nice, fading into the woodwork, I remember virtually no names, and almost no one remembers me. I could have stayed home and still gotten the report cards. I would have been happier. Not that anybody back there would care, and I would love them to but since I can't change that, I'm happy for me. I'm a reasonably talented real artist--not like Aunt Jenny who used to paint farmhouses or a granddaughter who colors nicely. I'm inordinately proud I earned a scholarship to the same excellent art school as Eakins, and, well I can't remember names--some of my favorites. I've got a solo exhibition coming up. I just returned from three weeks in Europe with my brother. The fact that we're close, I'm still married to the same man (for 48 years), our two children are normal, smart, and good people--that's all success and it's a good life. We're down here in Delaware where I paint, garden, and care for the animals. There isn't that much more to life.
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Saturday, November 10, 2012

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Today is a disappointment day. One of the psychics on-line gave me the heads-up on the solo show. It's a thumbs down and some has to do with a creepy guy nixing it because he's jealous of my training and experience. And what little talent I have. And the rest has to do with three bad paintings among the ten. I just didn't have enough work that I hadn't shown there.  I was just looking at two artists work on here who are way more talented than I ever was.  I don't like the scary themes on their work, but they can really paint.  We can't all be wonderfully talented. I'm grateful I can paint and that I do what I do.  I can be second-rate but that rating goes down into the hundreds.  There's so much crap on-line, all over. People who can't paint a human being to save their lives, but think they're artists, and who am I to say they're not. I guess I am, but it's mean and I wouldn't say it to them. And at the art center! JeeZ, they have no idea!  Amazing the crap to which they give awards. (I went to visit last week. The good stuff won nothing. There really was some amateurish work up and two won awards.)  I sound like a snob and I don't like it. 
All my life I wanted to be noticed, to be respected.  Very recently, after only sixty-four years, I realized I like myself. I respect myself and I'd love to have a friend like me.  I'd still like my artwork to be shown and to sell some. It piles up. It does sell, which is nice. Usually, I know what's gonna sell.  Prices have a lot to do with it. If people can afford the piece and they want it, it's gone. No controversy there. I can paint some attractive paintings.  I like them! but I don't like them all. The remedy for that is to paint over the ones I don't like until eventually, I paint one I like.  Then, I hang it, sell it, or give it away, usually to our kids.  I'm still hurting today. It feels like an emotional kick in the gut.  In about 15 minutes, Harry and I will go off for dinner and drinks.  That should cure what ails me, or maybe just tomorrow.

Thursday, November 01, 2012

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Coping With the "Art World" In Suburbia

I think the Art Alliance down here is going to "green light" my applying next year. My friend, the psychic told me about the "green light" but that I wouldn't like the conditions.  Today, I ran into one of the head guys there who told me the committee had made their decisions but he told me nothing more.  So...I'm assuming the news won't be what I want.  I assume he would have hinted if the answer were positive.  So I'm upset. I'll get over it possibly by tomorrow. Or maybe the next day, but pretty soon.  It was a crap shoot in so many ways. So few openings and so many artists applying.  The committee is not "professional". I've seen some of their picks and they're not always good.  (The present show is an example. Their winners are the worst, literally and I'm not exaggerating.) It's sad, but that's how the Art world is. It is very much who you know and their personal taste plus what sells.  Either one of the three can be the only or their first consideration. Just reality and it hurts.  Getting attention in that world is serendipity, maybe, or whatever.

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Beautiful Chinese Jewelry

I think I'm addicted to buying cheap jewelry on Ebay. It's mostly all from China and I love most of it. I just put on a phony sapphire ring to sleep in. I love the appearance of it. I put away--hid--my two good rings because most of my real gold was stolen last year. I haven't been able to remember where I hid them. I may never remember. It's happened before.
With jewelry, we look at the beauty. Why does it matter if the stone came out of the ground or if it were manufactured? Because somebody can make a lot of money from the sale?  Isn't the beauty the same, or almost the same, unless you have one of those jeweler's eye things?  I suspect the whole "real" jewelry thing is total bullshit. Why spend the money? Status? Who knows what's real and what's not besides your close friends and relatives?  Does it mean your boyfriend really loves you? Not by a long shot proven by the millions of divorces every year leaving behind diamond rings.
Well, just a thought. And another: This ring I wanted to wear is rubbing against my next finger. Isn't it great it cost about $4.00 and not $4000?

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

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My Life Now and.....

Tonight is tough. I've always felt weird, I thought I didn't fit in. I thought, if I just be myself, people won't like me, or God knows what. I don't know. It's not unusual, I realize that. I grew up with classy parents in a greed-driven dress-for- I success neighborhood.  It was a bad fit. I faded into the background, driven by fear.  Yeah, there were lots of crazy things going on and we'd moved from a neighborhood where I felt accepted and had friends.  In the "new" neighborhood, I was quiet, so shy.  I didn't speak up, didn't want to be at school, didn't really want to be at home.  And I was angry at everyone.  No one tried to draw me in, I was very alone in a Alice in Wonderland household.
I got out at sixteen, kidnapping a sweet young boy and having a baby.  Not a good choice for the time, but it worked out well for both of us as time went on. I earned a scholarship and earned college degrees and learned confidence as an artist.  But the anger still sits there.  I'm still hurt because dingbats didn't want to message me back, didn't want to be facebook friends.  Jeez, would I have liked them? Probably not. If they didn't want to talk to me, why not trust them as somehow divining that I wouldn't like them.  I'm not kidding myself.  I'm still a child hurting, wanting to be liked, accepted, respected.  I wish I could think myself out of this. I've found myself and I think I appreciate myself and what I have. I would love to be friends with me but somehow, knowing that doesn't end this garbage. Nevertheless, I think that's part of the key, if not all. I'm far from perfect and I'm not even interested in being perfect.  My parents, my family, were unusual and that's hard on kids, but as a grown up, I'm so grateful for their individuality, for what they gave me, for who I am.  I don't know why anybody wouldn't want to get to know me, but I'm intense, I know stuff, I'm curious, I could be intimidating.  I don't one up or any of that, but I'm a whole person. I stay away from people generally. Their coldness, their cautiousness, and guardedness upsets me. I don't like it and don't want to be around it. To me, it's creepy.  I know it works for the other person, but I don't like to be around it and it's so much of what I see.  So here I am, painting away for Christmas and getting ready for bedtime reading. I wish Jerry were still alive. I could have talked with him about this.  I lost him six long years ago. Nothing more to be said.  Losing someone so close to your heart never heals. That's just the way it is. I'm still happy I'm me and he was a part of the path.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

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I'm liking it here.

Today is a Wednesday. No sooner is it Tuesday than the week starts to end. Everything changed when I retired. The job seems almost to never to have been. Dreading Monday's doesn't happen anymore. There isn't quite a real weekend without working. It's just days and I wish it were slower.

Even with the aches, pains, and necessity of exercise, this is the best time of my life. I don't have to see anyone I don't choose; I don't answer to anyone. I can bum around all day. I go to sleep in the first wee hour and get up at noon. I read for hour at night or I don't. I see some of my old colleagues from work and could tell them to go fuck themselves (but I'm not so angry anymore.) I have the leisure now to reflect on my feelings.

I won the lottery in a lot of ways. I was smart enough to earn a scholarship to college and to go to the Pennsylvania academy of fine arts. That was the best school for painting. To be able to paint is in itself a gift. Somehow at sixteen I chose a very good man to be my husband. Our children are highly intelligent good people and they return our love. There is so much more. I'm sitting on my family room sofa with one of my cats in my lap in our single house with a big garden in the back in the suburbs. Life is never perfect but I'm liking it.

Monday, April 30, 2012

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New Knee=Jewelry From Ebay

I discovered in November that all my gold jewelry had been stolen. I reported it to the police and to the insurance company who shortly after paid me for them. I took that money and bought new fronts for our kitchen cabinets which were decrepit, but otherwise, unaffordable. Since then, I have been replacing the lost jewelry with inexpensive stuff from China mostly bought through Ebay. I bought mostly jewelry that I liked that was usually under $5.00. Through the excruciating knee pain I experienced before I finally got my new knee, and up till now, I've been enjoying the little packages coming in the mail. A few of my purchases look like real gold and they're only plated. That's fine for me. The only diamonds I ever got were inherited and they were surprises. I gave my daughter the most beautiful diamond ring I inherited from my grandmother dating from about 1890 or so. However, I'm just as happy with cz's or topaz. Topaz rings are just great according to me. I do love dressing up with makeup and jewelry if I don't have to do it everyday (for work). I just bought darker lipsticks, so I'm ready to go to town.
We're all different. I still like overalls and I'm waiting to be small enough to wear a hot pink pair hanging on the workroom door. When I paint, I wear very sloppy clothes because inevitably I splash paint on everything and don't realize it until after the clothes are washed and show up with an odd color that isn't washing out. I haven't painted for a while. It's hard to stand that long and I'm a little out of sorts. I need motivation. I was hoping to hit the New York Metropolitan Museum with my cousin in the late spring, but my cousin totally finked out during my hospital stay and after. (I called him and after that he never came to see me--from his walking-distance house--he's retired too--and never called. That hurt. I know he's got the sieve memory I have, but I still expected more which I'm pretty sure is a mistake. I'm still hurt though.) I may put this on Facebook and maybe he'll read it.
One thing about Ebay--it's important not to be drawn into bidding higher and higher on items that don't deserve that price or that you really can't afford. I use sniper programs and when the prices go higher than I want to pay, I'm out. I've gotten pulled in at times, paying more because I was virtually gambling. Ebay thrives on that, but we don't. That's important. I just started setting the top amount I'd pay and checking free shipping. I'm surprised at the large amount I still have to choose from. Another peculiar trait I discovered on Ebay is the same item can be priced from $.99 to $35.00. I'm guessing some people think the higher price ensures the "real thing" which I don't think is true with cheap jewelry, especially when you're dealing with topaz and plated gold or silver. (I look for 14Karat yellow plated gold, but the dealers from China don't seem to always recognize the difference between 14 and 18 Karat. That can be a problem. I've had to paint the gold a rose color on several earrings and I'm not satisfied with the outcome either.)
So, every week day I'll be looking for a little package. I know I have to stop shopping--I'm addicted. Luckily the prices are very low and I haven't incurred a big debt, just a lot of adornment and hours of excitement. This has been wonderful fun. I'll always associate my new knee with Ebay jewelry.

Jerry and Brian. Family. When jewelry fades...this is the really important stuff. Family..

Friday, April 27, 2012

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My new knee

My knee has been removed and replaced with a manufactured knee. It's been almost three weeks and lots of physical therapy. The pt hasn't been bad even though most people say it is. I've had it good so far. I was up walking a few hours after surgery, so happy not to feel the excruciating arthritis pained I'd been suffering. Jefferson hospital, the Rothman Clinic, gave me a private room and surprisingly, very tasty food. It was a little vacation made extremely comfortable with a drug cocktail.
Once home, I eschewed rothmans drug prescriptions and relied on percocet and meclizine. Rothman's meds for my home care were not sufficient yet they were just as addictive.
Someone from Jefferson didn't make referrals for my home nursing and physical therapy. Lucky for me our daughter and son in law are nurses. They straightened everything out. So many patients are treated at Rothman, I fell through the cracks.
Despite the lack of perfection across the board, my experience was good. Now I have this new joint and looking forward to many pain free years.

Monday, April 09, 2012

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New knee

In wAiting too at Jefferson u hospital. Waiting to be called for my knee surgery. Getting new knee. Waiting is tough.

Thursday, April 05, 2012

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Life Here

Today is still Thursday; Monday I'm scheduled for surgery at Jeff in Philly to get a new knee. I'm dreading it, waiting for it, and want to get it over with. The pain sometimes is excruciating. Harry's got phlebitis and cellulitis as of Saturday. We're a mess.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

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John's In

I don't know what happened to the rest of the posts I wrote from my phone, but they do show up on my phone if not here. I'm so nervous about my right knee. Thursday we head back up to Philly, to Jefferson U. Hosp., to see the orthopedist. Last time, he gave me a shot, but last time, my knee had been improving. This time, it's horrible. The only medication that's helped (until this evening), is percocet. And percocet brings its own problems. I see the orthopedist Thursday and I'm hoping he'll want to give me a new knee. I'm looking forward to eventually getting back to normal --with a new knee. I'm wheeling around in a wheelchair on the main floor and it's annoying. I have to have canes on every floor. I can't really go into stores, which means I can't get the cat's food, the little girls their Easter gifts--nothing. Thank God, I have Harry and he'll get the stuff. I'm watching my house get dirtier filling with cat hair and dust bunnies. Yuck. Who can concentrate on dust when one is in pain. I found someone to do the kitty litter for when I'm down. One step. I need someone to clean for that time too.
John is here fixing the house. It's great when he's here. He painted our shutters, did our deck, and he's waiting for the lazy susans for the corner cabinets. They've always been impossible, so finally, they'll be useful. He's doing more, but the list is boring. The point is when John is in from Washington State he fixes all the big and little problems of the house. We trust John and we love him.
I painted today and that was good. I'm always grateful when I do. For that, for John, for Harry and our cats, it was a beautiful day.

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Wednesday, March 14, 2012

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Spring blooms

I'm not sure if this is my favorite time of the year--with the daffodils and magnolias in blossom trees in bud or in just a few weeks when the leaves come out and all the plants are coming alive again. I hear a woodpecker in the park behind me. Other birds--so many birds--are singing. Children are out front riding their skates and bikes. The ice cream truck has come around and dinner has passed. This is a glorious time to be alive and out here under the ice blue sky.

Friday, March 09, 2012

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Note to Jerry

Dear Jerry,
I wish u were here. I've wished u were here since u physically left the earth. I do hear noises in the houser but I don't think they're u. Not after the wonderful stunts u were able to pull off. I wish you'd do the smoke again. That was my my favorite. Bruce and harry loved it too. That touch a couple of weeks ago was great but that could have been my father. He's done that before.
Not having u to talk to , to review events with, is hard. I think it's hardest on Brian. He needs you to counsel him. He and ho are such ethical people and I have u to thank. Thank you.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

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Use the Mascarpone on Everything!

I'm tired. I'm cooking today and it's something interesting. A spinach quiche-type recipe and Harry is making a good salad. I've been eating a pepper every night to make sure I'm getting the vitamins I need and otherwise stuffing myself. I get headachey and nauseous now sometimes. I think it's just old people's disease. If not, it's mild lupus. Lupus does not leave. It doesn't get cured. However, mine was so mild that now that I'm not under stress, I wouldn't know it's there. Everybody else I know is very sick from it. They have heart, kidney, and systemic problems. They're in and out of hospitals. Their fights with doctors for correct diagnosis never end usually. (Autumn is now on my lap. I'm hoping she'll stay there and not try to lean on the keyboard. Oops! There she goes!)
Harry's calling for me to go into his room to see something on his computer. I don't want to. I really want to lay down. I'm off for the sofa.
I rested then I put together the Spinach-Ricotta Pie. It smells great but I'm now full from Harry's salad. Well I ate a little of it. It was okay, but I didn't like the taste of sour cream on top. Mascarpone would have been better. Of course, Mascarpone is good on everything. Moosewood Cookbooks don't seem to use Mascarpone.

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Sunday, February 05, 2012

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I have been mildly depressed, overwhelmed. So much happened so fast I have had trouble keeping up. It's been crazy. Bubba freda had been the same for years and suddenly she was dying of melanoma. Right before that I found all my gold earrings and chains were stolen. My knee before bubba because excruciatingly painful.

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Losing Weight

I've been losing weight, riding the stationery bike, and nursing my knee. It's never easy to lose weight; once I've started, I'm okay. It's hard to start. I'm 35 pounds from my goal; I've lost about 13 pounds since June or July. Not fabulous, but good. For so long, I didn't believe it was possible for me to lose weight. I'm so pleased! Every time that number goes down a little further I celebrate in my head.

Friday, January 27, 2012

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Sleeping with my girl

Getting ready to read then bed. Very quiet. Love staying up late and sleeping through the morning. The only problem is I don't actually have a morning and there isn't enough time in the day. Sometimes. Other times it's okay. There is some rush involved. Sleeping with autumn's fur against my cheek is good. It makes me sleepy and content. Cats don't worry about tomorrow. I'm learning. Maybe.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

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Cats Don't Tell Time Or Worry

It's almost February; by the time you read this, it will be. Time speeds up as we age. By the time it's winter, it's almost spring again. We're busy making the rounds of doctors, reading newspapers, shopping, and cooking. No sooner do I wake, then I'm feeding the cats, and making dinner. Jaynee's day is different because she's a night owl. I get my errands done before she wakes and then I spend as much of the day with her as possible. It seems we are buying cat food all the time; our cats should be the size of leopards the way they eat. Our four eat what the vet recommended and lay around in the windows and occasionally wrestling. We feed Tiger, a cat abandoned by his owners years ago, and apparently, at least one other cat who hits Tiger's food on our deck. Cats don't consider time; to them, it doesn't exist.

Phone calls to them are an annoyance; to me, phone calls are torture. I used to spend my mornings making whatever calls were necessary. Now, my hearing almost gone entirely, I struggle to read the computer's translation of what is being said by the person I'm calling. People talk too fast and don't have patience. I'm so frustrated just trying. Jaynee is taking over my calls. I worry about times she won't be here, for instance when she goes out west to visit her brother. I dread that time. It's expensive and there's so much work to be done here, i.e. kitty litter and phone calls. Jaynee lost her very beloved cousin six years ago so now she insists on spending time with her brother who happens to live out west. His house is in Port Orford, on the coast of Oregon. Jaynee loves it there and I loathe it. There is virtually no television, nothing to see, almost nowhere to go, and no computer connections. Jaynee's brother is a virtual encyclopedia. His cat hasn't mellowed him out yet. And neither have mine. It would be great to relax the way our three boy kitties do and forget not hearing and stop worrying. Impossible, but I can still wish.

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Tuesday, January 10, 2012

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Tuesday on Tuesday

Tuesday's visiting. She's not too happy with Kiki, who would like a good sniff at Tuesday's pig's ear and bones. Kiki is fearless, but Tuesday is big and barks loud. Without a good job gathering sheep or hogs, Tuesday has to find her own employment, so she watches the cats ready to bark at them if they misbehave. Her standards are high, governed mostly by a cat nearing something of hers or my yelling at one of the cats for something. Tuesday has found something to do outside. It might just be making sure no squirrels come into the garden. I don't know. It's too cold and my knee hurts too much to stay out there with her.
Tuesday is the subject of my new painting, not that she'll pose. She doesn't like to enter the sunroom. She's really not allowed because the kitty litter is there and the cats need a place to get away from her if they want. Today she came in but I wasn't painting so she had to go back out. Dogs get into kitty litter and eat the cat poop.

Sunday, January 08, 2012

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Letting Evil People Go By

Are some people so misguided in their actions they can be called totally evil? And what happens to them when they die? There are people who live outside the law --and some inside--who appear to have given up on humanity, but what of people who mostly treat others badly, ruining lives partially or completely? Some prosecutors are gleeful to do that, right or wrong. Bosses too or anyone with power. I believe power corrupts either obviously, or hidden from sight, it still corrupts. Without freely-given feedback invited, there are no barriers to revenge, paranoia, or simply allowing anger to take over.
I always had rotten bosses until I arrived at my job in Center City Philly. Often the nastiest people were not actually supervisors, but they had tremendous power anyway. If you don't agree with their ideas, you may as well leave immediately.
After about 50 years of fighting with nasty people, I finally began to stay away from them. I'd see one coming up the aisle at work and turn around and walk the other way. One enraged woman called me on staying away from her. I don't remember what I said but I continued to give her wide berth. Sometimes--most times--I get a kick out of arguing. It had never occurred to me before older middle age that I didn't owe the world a fight with the nastiest person in the room. I had no lesson for a bad actor, nothing to teach that the person didn't already know and reject. The rest of earth's inhabitants could also stand up to her or him, not just me. Inevitably, the complainers clammed up when it was their time to voice their own grievances. People who don't speak up never seem to. Ever. They go along to get along. So evil just breezes by till it hits someone like me....but I no longer deal with them. I wish other people would realize that just because someone says a lie nicely, that doesn't make it true. Hurtful statements and out and out lies can be presented as fact. It's up to the listener to research the truth. I'm not doing it anymore and sadly, neither is the press. The alarm has rung. I wish everyone would wake up.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

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Mom's Leaving soon

My knee is still swollen and very sore with arthritis. HArrys 90 1/2 yr old mom now has a very aggressive cancer and she's dying. Everybody's fighting over her care wanting the best for her. Were all kind of a mess. I've been doing psychic readings but didn't see this. I've actually gotten good. Can't help his mom though. I'm just hoping nobody starts torturing her with needles or tubes. She's been pretty lucky up till
Now and that's a long time. No ventilators or stomach tubes. Those things feel as bad as they look.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

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Golden Dreams

Well, I lost my last draft. No big loss. Tonight, a police officer came to take the information about my gold jewelry being stolen. It took me a month before I was ready to call them. First, I didn't know everything that was gone. I only just realized she took my mother's gold necklace. (That and the diamond earring are the worst.) I hadn't noticed the other chains were gone either. Then it wasn't long ago that I noticed one of a number of pairs of silver earrings were gone. I think it turned out she took one of each that had stones in them. (No guys were in this room, so it WAS a woman.) Well, it's over now. I don't have insurance on the jewelry. I never thought it was worth so much and even if it was, the insurance is too expensive. I'm not a diamond collector. I've never actually bought a diamond. I don't buy expensive jewelry. I like interesting stuff. How often do I need fancy jewelry? Not often. That's why I don't know when it was stolen.

Here's Autumn guarding my jewelry. Go Autumn!

Thursday, November 24, 2011

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How Bad Can a Housecleaning Business Be?

I talked about this before, possibly just on Facebook. Since Tuesday bit up my datebook and after that, I lost what was glued together, I have to consult Harry's datebook for exact dates. I haven't done that yet. Here's the story right now:
On the next to last visit of About Maids, one of the workers broke off a blade from the ceiling fan of my husband's workroom. She brought it in to us apologizing. Shortly after, I began to call the business owner. I called many times with no response. Finally, I spoke with a secretary or person answering the phone who said the owner simply said, "No". When I asked for more information, she explained he did not believe it was possible for his worker to have done that. We fixed the fan and discontinued their service.
On November 11 of this year, I had reason to go into my unlocked jewelry box and found all my gold earrings, including a nearly one carat diamond earring were gone. There were eight earrings all together. In addition, seven silver earrings had one missing. I rarely wore any of those earrings so I didn't notice the theft until November 11.

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Tuesday, November 15, 2011

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The Wedding

This past Friday was our daughter's wedding. It was a beautiful
events as we hope all weddings can be. Everything began with the
right guy. I knew something was up a couple of years ago when our
daughter mentioned she'd been out to lunch with Roger. She was in
Jefferson's Nursing School at that time having burned out as a High
School Biology Teacher. Roger was already a nurse at Jefferson.

Their relationship built slowly and by two years ago, it became
obvious Roger was the "One". This last year he asked her to marry him
and presented her with a really lovely old-fashioned diamond ring in
platinum. In the Spring, Roger joked saying they could get married
11/11/11 and gradually the date went from a joke to the real date for
the wedding. Jaynee accompanied our daughter and two of her friends
to look at wedding gowns in the early summer. At the last minute,
after choosing a frou-frou style most young women are wearing now, she
ventured into the sale area "just to see". There, she found a lovely
dress absolutely perfect for her slender figure. After that, our
daughter looked to settle all the rest of the arrangements. She
hadn't realized how involved and time-consuming that would be.
Because that date was very popular for weddings and conventions were
also occurring in Philly on that day, very few places were available
for the reception. Luckily, our daughter's girlfriend Linda found a
place. They rented a room in an Episcopal Church in Center City.

On the day before the wedding, Linda decorated the reception hall.
Jaynee's brother flew in from California and Roger's family arrived
from Syracuse. Our daughter and Roger were getting nervous. Our
daughter-in-law hadn't found clothes that fit and she was upset. Our
son's father-in-law was sick and couldn't come which meant our son had
to drive to New Jersey and pick up his mother-in-law then head up to
Philly and help Roger dress.

Jaynee, our daughter, and Linda headed over to the Beauty Parlour for
manicures, hair styling and make-up. Everything ran late and our
daughter was distraught. Linda saved the day bringing her wedding
dress to the Beauty Parlour and helping her dress. Meanwhile, Brian
was at our daughter and Roger's house with his wife and Mother-in-Law.
Roger was somewhat overwrought by all the tension and preparations.
Nevertheless, Roger dressed in his Old Gordon plaid kilt ready for the

With Jaynee, Linda, and our daughter in the limousine, the rest of the
nuptials flowed like a soft summer breeze. Our daughter is a committed
Buddhist so the wedding vows were held at the Shamballa. The
volunteers there were so supportive; it was lovely. From the vows, we
all withdrew to the Episcopal Church where music, hor d'oevres, wine,
and celebrations were waiting. This was a very exciting evening.

Our daughter and new son invited the family to come celebrate Saturday
which we all did, celebrating some more. Roger's family were just as
perfect as Roger is. We all enjoyed our time together. On Sunday, we
brought Tuesday, their dog, home with us and on Monday, the new
marrieds left for their honeymoon in Savannah.

Friday, October 21, 2011

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Getting Ready

Listening to Pandora radio. How lovely. Dancing downstairs. Practicing up for the wedding and a plus for exercise too. Today is Kitty Litter Day. Every Friday. There are animal lovers and animal non-lovers in the world and not much in between. I'm one of the former. We have four and that's all we can comfortably afford but we feed a feral cat outside also. If Harry enjoyed having dogs, we'd have one or two of them in here too, but he doesn't, so we don't. I read every advertisement in the local papers with photos from the shelters and wish I could help them. And I talk to every dog (and small child) I pass (every time). I'm jonesing for a grandchild, I can't help it.
In less than three weeks our first child, our very beloved daughter, is getting married. Our outfits aren't finished being altered yet. We both have our shoes. (I've forgotten to buy a fancy little purse. Next week, I guess.) Harry has taken his broken hearing aids back to Jenkintown for the fourth time and he's hoping they will finally work by the time of the wedding. He'll enjoy hearing the vows and toasts. This time, we both read the salesman the riot act because the company keeps saying they replaced the entire insides and they come back the same. They kept our $200 (in addition of course to the high price of the hearing aid).
Other than the hearing aid, everything seems to be progressing. Our new son will wear a custom kilt in his Gordon plaid. His mom will wear a banner with that plaid. I'm hoping our prayer shall supposedly brought out of Grenada (Spain), in 1492 is in decent enough shape for me to wear that. My mom used it to cover her piano and it faded slightly in addition to now having coffee cup marks. I think it wasn't perfect before. It had been worn down through the ages, by me once at an art opening, and before that by my grandmother. My dad's cousin wore it once and promptly became sick and died, so nobody not in the direct line has worn it since.
It's hard to determine if silk can survive for so many years, but my limited research seems to suggest that it can. Also, the colors and style of the shawl appear to be appropriate for the time. I looked at it tonight. Held it. I know it gives off vibrations; it's a little scary. Perhaps if I ask tonight, in the next few days my grandfather will answer.

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Thursday, September 29, 2011

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Our Cats and Their Vet: Not Exactly a Love Story

Yesterday, Dr. McKensie, the mobile veterinarian, came. Autumn had a sore under her jaw and we got nervous. We put Autumn in the upstairs bathroom and managed to get Moon and Kiki into the sunroom. Tigger smelled something and took off. When the vet arrived, she located Tigger quickly and at that, he zoomed around the house ending inside one of the two sofas in the family room. He was the bulge in the arm. Dr. McKensie gave him the rabies shot through the fabric. We cracked up. Then the good doctor headed into the sunroom for the other two boys. Two people were needed to cut off Moon's knots. None of our cats scratch or bite; Moon is an expert squirmer though. After the boys, it was Autumn's turn. Kiki came out of the sunroom, sat down, and watched intently. It turned out that Autumn had an infection of her inner lip and a pimple under her jaw. The doc gave her a shot to address her problem and we'll watch her for a week. She might need more care. We'll see.
All our cats gained a lot of weight. Kiki is very overweight but he noses the other boys away from their bowls and eats their food. Moon usually comes upstairs and shares Autumn's food. Doc McKensie recommended chicken baby food and tuna fish in water for all of them. That way they would avoid all the additives and preservatives in the canned cat food. They have a good dry food that's always available. They don't pig out on that.
This morning, I slept with Autumn, her paws on my right arm and her head tucked in between. Her beautiful strawberry blond fur brushed my face. I adore that cat.

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Wednesday, September 14, 2011

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spiritual spring

Back again. One or two meds causing me problems. Car sickness, light-headedness, and depression. I thought I was going to pass out in Home Depot. I didn't, and I made it back to the car. I stopped the Simvastatin. I won't take a medication that causes that stuff. What kind of life is that? None. I see the doc Friday.
Time to make the donuts, er painting.
Another day, no dollar. It looks like a lovely Saturday to sit in the garden with a book. (I've already fooled around with my Iphone.) I did sit in the garden for more than an hour until it seemed to be starting to rain, then I came in and watched shows about ghosts. Except for one, none of the spirits were related to the folks seeing them. The only spirit I actually saw in the flesh was my neighbor's aunt who I knew pretty well, so she wasn't a stranger. I've had lots of experiences with my family's spirits and those always feel good. Lately the drawers of my desk in here have been closing occasionally, but it doesn't feel scary. I think it's just a family member, if in fact it's not something non-phenomenal, like gravity hitting just once in a while. I hope it's my cousin. He originally threw shoes, closed desk drawers, pulled up shades, and left cigarette smoke, all separately. I was hoping he would blanket me in ciggie smoke on the airplane going out to my brother's the way he did last time, but no, didn't happen.
I try to tell friends when they lose someone close to them to ask that spirit to come talk, let everyone know how they are. Eventually, I was able to do that after I got over the hysterical grieving for my cousin. I knew dying was his choice rather than living through machines or in a nursing home even before he told me.
I know I may look like a wacko saying all this stuff and I hope the folks who have that reaction will not tell me if we're friends. The only experiences I insist were real actually are the ones I experienced while I was awake and alert. Seeing Aunt Millie. Spirits touching me and talking in my ear. For absolutely sure, I know that stuff was real and that tells me there is something going on that we can't see.

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

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Our Cats and Grandpuppy

Tuesday is visiting and I'm sleeping half the night with her, and half back upstairs with Autumn, who is my little kitty baby. That's her. She was taken from her mother too early and I've substituted. Our children are both adults but not ready for their own children, so our cats are our babies now. Tuesday is our grandpuppy who acts something like a two-year-old. She brings her toys to show me over and over, usually not for me to throw, just for me to make a fuss. She's relaxing now in the parlor, and actively avoiding going outside. If it's raining, she'd rather stay in.

Our three male cats are used to Tuesday visiting now. Moon even eats from his plate on the floor next to Tuesday. The cats ignore her. Autumn stays upstairs because two of the boy cats scare her. She has her own stash of food and two kitty litters. Much to Autumn's good quality of life, I usually spend most of the night sleeping in my Lazy-boy with her. I have neck and back problems that do better there. Harry has the bedroom to himself unless that night the bed seems to offer more comfort. Then, my ear plugs go in because Autumn stands by the door and cries loudly. Harry doesn't hear her even when he's up using the bathroom. Because he is up so often during the night and can't hear, he doesn't want the cats jumping up and down on the bed. They stay out at night.

Harry and I have always had cats. Never four like now, but four cats are hardly more work than just one. It's nice having four little beings walking around just being themselves.

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Sunday, September 04, 2011

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Talking Back!

Life is strange, good at times, and definitely youth is wasted on the young. Or maybe not. Retirement is truly freedom, release, and a piece of heaven. The only downside is the knowledge that you have maybe twenty years if you're lucky. Good health is the elephant in the room. Without that, a long life is torture. Any life can end with crying in a nursing home to please be allowed to die as a prayer to anyone who will listen, preferably, God.
Knees creak and ache. Sometimes, for some people, everything seems to hurt. For me, unlike most others, lupus has been more a gift than a curse. Maybe it was a curse years ago when I worked, but a short memory is a blessing sometimes.
I hated working; the only thing I liked about working was making money. Painting was never work, but it really didn't pay either. Mom fought authority and guess what I did?! My unspoken goal was to correct ungentleman-like behavior of bosses to their faces. Somehow they were shocked and not appreciative. The suffering or unfairness of their decisions didn't bother them the way it did me. I saw them as evil-doers and corporate climbers willing to get ahead--and help their buddies--any way they could and the public--or their underlings--be damned. Why my ways weren't part of the corporate structure didn't mystify me, but I was always upset when I didn't get promoted or got fired. In the end, I probably lost a couple dollars in my monthly retirement pay. It was worth it.
There was one time I probably was wrong and I'm sorry about that time. I took someone else's tale as truth. Bad idea. The offended administrator truly was clawing her way up and jealous of anyone with integrity combined with education. That meant me especially because I wasn't quiet enough and was working under someone else who was a psycho. The combined effect of that adventure was a promotion to another job that suited me better. It worked out but I wish I had focused on what was obvious about the woman rather than anything else. Lesson learned was only write what you see personally.
What I see now is life unchained. I've escaped city living and the corrupt politics I knew for so many years. I graduated to a beautiful house with a lovely garden in a college town not so far away from my old home. Definitely good riddance and no regrets. My beloved cousin said, "All we have to do is be." I would add and be "good enough". I am, and I'm glad I never kept my mouth shut.

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Wednesday, August 31, 2011

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Cats At Work

Photo is of two of our cats "working". Oops! Can't get it......Um..Maybe......?

Moon is the gray guy, and Kiki is the black and white. Moon owns the house and Kiki is trying to take it over.

On Friday, I returned from my month-long vacation out west. My brother owns a house on the Oregon coast that's my favorite place, especially in summer. The coastal temperature runs about 62 degrees with maybe wind at 20 percent. At night, the temp goes down to about 45 degrees. There aren't any mosquitoes, hardly any traffic, and just a few tourists. It's a very quiet town with no night-life and hardly any during the day. There are magnificent views and walks on the beaches and mountains. That's about it.

I mailed my clothes out and brought only a carry-on rolling suitcase. (That way I wouldn't have to face the airline losing them again and I wouldn't have to haul a heavy suitcase.) My brother bought a new bed for his second bedroom where I sleep so I was very comfortable. We watched television at night and luckily, we agreed on shows. (My brother is one of the easiest people in the world to get along with.) We bought new pots and food, I cooked, and he cleaned up. The big stores are 50 miles away but my brother drives the distance as if it was nothing.

In the middle of August, we started on the drive to Los Angeles because my brother teaches there during the school year. I carried his adorable cat Aggie, except when he sat in the back looking out the window and entertaining people walking by. We drove through the coast, stopping at a friend's house in Petaluma, a small city close to San Francisco. The fellow is renovating a 130 year old Craftsman house there. I'd been in one Craftsman house in Lawndale, Philadelphia. That one had been purchased from Sears in the early 1900's. This Petaluma house was built from scratch all those years ago. I had an idea that the old California houses had been destroyed during the various earthquakes. I was so wrong. There was a whole section of lovely Victorian and Craftsman homes in Petaluma and throughout the west. Westerners don't seem to get excited about the earthquakes. My brother slept through the last one.

Eventually, we drove into Malibu and then Los Angeles. I was impressed again by the diversity and fabulous choice of restaurants. However, there are so many people there and almost the whole population drives so the traffic is horrendous and parking is terrible. LA is so spread out that it takes hours to get from one end of the city to another. Going anywhere takes a long time. It's just that way. When I was about to fly out from the John Wayne airport in Santa Anna, it took two hours to drive the 50 miles. My flight was cancelled and I caught my brother only one hour away and got to stay one more day.

I had a wonderful vacation. Harry doesn't like flying or Port Orford, so he didn't go and I missed him. I wish my brother lived near us. I love the Oregon Coast, but it's so expensive to go visit him. Nevertheless, when family is good, there is nothing like them. Spending time with my brother is one of my biggest pleasures and I wouldn't miss that for the world.

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Sunday, August 28, 2011

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That's the Oregon coast at Port Orford and Gold Beach and why it's my favorite summer place in the world. (Gotta go home sometime!)I just got home very late

Thursday, July 28, 2011

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Port Orford Hooray!

I'm going on vacation! I'm going on vacation! Yay!!!!!! Tuesday, I leave for Oregon. I land first in LA, then on another plane for Portland. Bruce--my brother--will pick me up, we'll stay over because it'll be late, then he'll drive to Port Orford on the coast. Whoopee! (His car is stick shift so he has to do all the driving.) I'll be on the west coast for three weeks, but I think the last week will be in LA. (I'm flying home from there and Bruce has to get back to start his fall teaching.) I'll get to see Steve's house that he's made over from scratch. I'm looking forward to that. I don't know if I'll see anything more of LA, not that I care. Been there, done that. I probably wouldn't recognize a TV star at the tip of my nose and they're who's a big deal out there.
Bruce is going to drive down the coast and I know it's beautiful. When Brian was little, we rode the train down that. (It sounds to me as though I'm a big traveler, but I'm not. We've been places on the east and west coasts, although outside of Utah, Arizona, and the left coast states, we've definitely not been everywhere.) I'd love to hit Europe, but I don't think it's going to happen. I don't have the money and even if I could get it, I have no one to go with. Harry isn't interested. He doesn't want to walk much.
Going out to the Oregon shore is my beach time. It's not possible to sit on a folding chair in the ocean like here, but watching it flow in and out is good. It's cool out there. The beaches have natural stones, some huge, on/in them. I brought back natural Jade, Jasper, and a green stone whose name I can't remember. They're not jewelry quality or they have to be sanded or whatever a jeweler does, but they're nice and they feel special whether they really are or not.
I have no pictures, or I can't find them, of my last trip to Port Orford. I'll take more this time. I should have gone up into the attic today and retrieved my carry-on bag. The only thing I really did today was make cornfritters for Harry. He loves them. Maybe I'll go look for my "travel" handbag. That's an activity. Then that will be two activities.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

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Listen to the Plants Singing

Delaware is shrouded by navy blue clouds today; it's a thundering and lightening sky. Normally, when I don't have to cook or leave the house, I love this. My plants are getting watered and they're always happy when it rains. (Yes, plants can be happy.) I should be downstairs painting, but I keep thinking about returning the new vacuum cleaner to Boscov's and then going to Brian's in the pouring rain. I usually just pop my waterproof Oregon hat onto my head or wear my rain-jacket, but this weather calls for something more, like my body coated in plastic.
I need that little stick vacuum though. I vacuum up escaped kitty litter and Moon and Autumn's floating fur, which is everywhere, all the time. I forget where I put Moon's shaver thing that would shave off his knots. His mom was half-Persian, and while he looks like his Maine Coon daddy, his fur is Persian. It's more apt to form balls than Autumn's pure Maine Coon fur. Hers is all over her upstairs dominion resembling dust bunnies.
According to the receipt, I bought the new stick cordless vacuum a month ago and it worked well until last night when it simply stopped. It's maybe the fourth of this kind I've had and they do what other cordless vacs don't plus, they're very light, and the battery goes for about an hour. They're not perfect. The last one that's gone now but still ensconced in the sunroom, is held together by duct tape. The pieces of the thing eventually break off, but with a stick from one of the trees and some ingenuity, they can keep working. (Glad those sticks are good for something.)
I got those sticks earlier this week, between raindrops, cutting off the dead branches from the Butterfly Trees in the backyard. There was another tree actually climbing up the trunk of one of the Butterflies, hidden, but for it's leaves not matching the real occupants. I wasn't able to pull it out, but I cut it down. Having moved out to the suburbs from our whole life in Philly with virtually no yard, it's amazing how the garden grows. The best gardening eats up parts of every day, which most people can't afford, but when it's feasible, there's something wonderful there. Sitting in the midst of the garden, it's possible to feel the trees and plants. When they're cared for, they almost sing.

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Friday, April 22, 2011

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Holiday Saturday!

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, er, Saturday. We celebrate holidays on Saturdays because most of our family work and they prefer a non-working night. The kids cook up these fabulous meals and we have nothing to do except enjoy ourselves, so we're happy to celebrate. Grateful.
I visit Harry every day. He's still in the nursing home gradually increasing his agility with his new knee. I've been bringing him food and, beginning yesterday, putting too much food into my own mouth. Today, I dined out on a fancy hot dog and fries. The fries were the problem. Nowadays, meals are huge. The fries were enough for three people to share and they were well-done, the way I like.
After my restaurant meal, I hit Home Depot for a gift for our son and daughter-in-law. I examined every plant for the most difficult to kill and finally settled on a big rose bush. Our new daughter likes roses. I hope she likes this one.
My plants are sitting in our backyard mostly. I'm still waiting to see if some of the plants not yet budding have died. I bought plants on sale and dug holes already. Most of the holes could be for any size plants or shrubs. After the rains, it's always a surprise how easy it is to shovel. I'm excited about putting in more hollies and Azaleas. I didn't plan to have more Azaleas, but they were so cheap, I couldn't resist.

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Tuesday, April 19, 2011

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My LIfe With Harry's Knee Replacement

Harry's down here in a nursing home, getting rehab, learning how to use his new knee. I'm home with the cats. Life is easy for me and then I go sit with Harry and we read the paper and talk, ignoring his roommate (who doesn't talk anyway). Tomorrow, I'll do a doctor's appointment, then buy Chinese food for Harry. Today I made doctors and insurance phone calls and sundries shopping, then Harry.
I keep trying to get Harry to come home, even though life is so easy. When Harry gets home, I'll be busy cooking and serving him, but I still will feel better when he's home. The hospital would have released him to come home if he had been able to do what he can now. He has good physical and occupational therapists who want more for him, so I can't expect him home till at least next week.
All is well and it will be better soon.

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Tuesday, April 05, 2011

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Can I leave the computer and Fishdom? Is it possible? Nah.....

Monday, April 04, 2011

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Getting ready to leave the house...again. This time, it's to the cardiologist for Harry and me, then to Home Depot, for soil and stuff. After a day of "out", I like to stay in the house, get my little jobs done, and paint. I can paint at night, no problem, but I feel as though I'm being dragged out. I'm not.
I have nine million weeds to pull, then spread the stuff that's supposed to prevent them returning. Good luck. Last year, they kept coming until I sprayed the weed killer that was supposed to kill only them. The plant guys at Home Depot said that stuff kills everything, so I didn't buy it this year. Time will tell, if the plants come back or not. Right now, it's those day lilies all over. More are coming. They're beautiful, but this year, I'm not enjoying them like I did. I'm looking, waiting, to see if the rest will come up too. My hostas haven't broken the surface yet. The Azaleas all seemed to come through the winter well, better than I ever expected. Some of them, I had to spray for death fungus over and over last summer. A lot of the Rhododendrons are limping, but they're alive. What the hell!? They're on crutches.

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Thursday, March 31, 2011

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Life Changes

I haven't written for so long, anything not on the internet would have disappeared. I've lately begun to miss and feel as though I needed to write on here. So much has happened and will be happening this year. I haven't changed, but, well, our kids have. They've married and marrying. Harry is getting his knee replaced very soon. Our daughter and her fiance bought a house and moved their menagerie together. The puppy is acting out. Apparently, she's not too happy with her new digs and two extra cats. I can't blame her. She was here with us for a while, with the yard to run in, and being a star, fed hamburger with every meal. So what dog would want to leave that for change and way less tasty food? She's a Catahoula too, and they're bred to hunt and herd; they need to run and work. I suggested saddle bags and errands. Our daughter says her friend tried that and it worked. Good!
I still love being retired, and would probably forget working if I could. I paint usually every day and I'm getting better. I painted while I worked, most often at my desk, in addition to home, but painting in my studio and being able to see the work from my dining room table is best. When Tuesday was here, she laid herself down right outside my easel area in my studio, claiming it for herself as opposed to our cats. That was okay. I miss her, but life is easier without a dog. Really, it's time to paint now.

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Sunday, August 30, 2009

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Moon Introduces Tuesday

Hi, my name is Moon Polis, and I'm a Maine Coon Cat. I am the head of animals here at home. There is a new member of the family trying my patience. Honey brought a puppy here to the house, whom she had just adopted here the other day. I have to admit she is cute, but she is already bigger than me and her paws say she will be a lot bigger than I am when she grows up. What is the matter with these people? Aren't cats enough? I put up with Autumn, and two years ago, Mom insisted on bringing two street cats in. Of course, they recognized my authority immediately.
I allowed this new puppy--her name is Tuesday--to greet me even though she did not show me the proper respect. She collected all the cat toys she could find and put them in a pile, then ran around like a greyhound! Mom says she is mostly a Catahoula, the Louisiana State Dog, with a little German Shepherd. Nobody is mentioning Catahoula's are dogs that bring down bears and boars. Knowing that, I understand completely why the other cats hid.
I was around when Honey's dog Tree--a German Shepherd mix--and Sammy--a purebred Red Golden Retriever--were alive. Sammy used to give me baths, as if I needed them! I knew he meant well so I tolerated the drool washing. Max, the Yellow Lab from across the street, comes to visit too. You can see I am a feline dog expert. The other cats do not have my experience though. Before Max puts one paw in the door, they are history!
People ask a lot from cats. I should not have to deal with Tuesday, the Catahoula puppy. It is hard enough getting sufficient pets and finding comfy places to lay. So even though I vote against her, Tuesday the puppy, has officially joined the family. However, I'm drawing the line at baths.

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Sunday, August 02, 2009

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Nausea, Nausea, Go Away. Don't Come Back Some Other Day

Lupus. It's always ready to surface and bit you on the butt. Yesterday, I started the day slightly nauseous, riding in the car up to Philly, I was headachy and a little car sick. I forgot my iced coffee, and I was driving, so I pulled into a Philadelphia Dunkin Donuts and ordered a large mochachino. It turned out to be gigantic, but delicious, so I drank the whole thing. I thought 3 PM was early enough and the coffee would stop my hunger pangs. After visiting Bubba Freda, we drove up to Randy's a Northeast Philadelphia restaurant. The two good things I had to eat were my Bourbon Manhattan and my peanut butter mousse cake. The fish tasted fishy and I thought the sauce was simply very hot hot sauce. Harry didn't rave about his either and the waitress quoted us the wrong price and then denied it for Bobbi's veal chop.
Fern and her new boyfriend came by and they went home to Bobbi and Marvin's to wait for us. Fern wanted to know my psychic uptake on her boyfriend. I'm no Sylvia Browne; I'm just a normal Lupie whose brain damage has caused an awareness of everyday psychic stuff. Anybody could do it. I picked up lots of stuff like he leaves his socks, stuff from the kitchen, and cups, anywhere and everywhere. I saw he worried about money and how afraid of being hurt again he was. I knew when the phone rang at Bobbie's, it was Fern wanting her psychic information. That was fun for me.
It takes a while to drive back to Delaware from Philadelphia and it was Harry's turn to drive. I didn't doze, and I didn't doze later. In fact, at 3:30 AM, I was still very awake. I felt drunk. Nine hours before, I had had one Manhattan. Sometimes when that happens, I take Ambien, and I did that last night. Today, I awoke with a hangover. I have decided, when that happens again, I'll just stay awake and watch movies. I recognized how my body felt all that day and night as a taste of my lupus. I'm very lucky. I just had a friend die from her lupus. Not only have I not died from it, I won't. I don't believe lupus is one disease, or else it has SO many levels.
About a week and a half ago, I was still in Oregon, visiting my brother. I wish it were easy to visit him. It's so expensive and I feel pretty bad when I have to leave. Life is so frigging complicated.

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Saturday, June 27, 2009

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Central Nervous System Lupus and Psychic Awareness

I haven't written here for a long time. I've written only a little on Facebook and one article on Lupus for SCOOP,USA. I go in and out of things. For a long time, I was giving psychic readings on spark people. I did well, if you're not looking for Sylvia Browne. I can still get information, which hopefully, I interpret correctly. I ask "Bubba". Initially, I thought I was asking my husband's very beloved grandmother. I realize though, the spirit answering could be my mother's mom, also my Bubba. Any of us can direct questions to the spirits who love us. Then, just sit tight, focusing on something like breathing, and the answer will come.
I developed my slight psychic ability through Lupus. My flares were ones that hit my central nervous system. One day I didn't know anything, and the next day, I could sense spirits. Lupus. I was never sure,and still can't be, that anybody was sending me anything. Then I saw Aunt Millie. During another lupus flare, I awoke to see Aunt Millie, my neighbor's aunt who'd passed away a few years before, standing by my bedside. She was filmy and not looking at me. When I talked to her too much, she started fading, so I asked her to please, please stay, and she did. We didn't have any communication; I figured she either meant to go next door or she wanted me to give her niece by marriage a message. They hadn't parted on friendly terms so I assumed the message was a kind of apology and I told her niece.
When my very beloved cousin passed away, I grieved terribly. I don't think I'll ever get over his death. Not more than a year after he died, one night he started to communicate. First, his photo flew off the mantle (by itself, with no other photos moving), to the floor, landing face up, without breaking. One sneaker did the same. My keyboard put itself back with my staring at it. MY shade took itself up two inches. A couple Christmases ago, Harry and I were driving home and our car filled with cigarette smoke. It happened again a couple of nights later. (Jerry was a heavy smoker.) One morning, someone touched my cheek; I thought it was Harry, but he turned out to be in the shower. I think I heard Jerry's voice another time, but I don't remember clearly.
I had one creepy psychic visitation from a spirit I apparently brought home from a night's stay in the hospital. That was awful. In the hospital itself, spirits visited all night patting me on the knee, reassuring me.
I'm sixty-one, hopefully not close to dying; but having someone you love suddenly sicken and die really gives you perspective. Most of my problems are arthritis or joint problems. I'm out of shape and overweight; that's a terrible combination. Occasionally, I use a cane. I've started to hand-paint them for other people in addition to painting at my easel. It's lovely sitting in my studio, overlooking our backyard. Right now, the trees are in leaf, the lillies and hostas are blooming. The birds are always at Harry's birdfeeder, chirping away. It's lovely.
Life isn't easy for anyone. It's all relative. I have been very lucky with Lupus though. I can walk and talk, think, and paint, plus communicate a little with spirits. That isn't always the case with lupus survivors. People don't always survive. I look at my life and I'm kind of amazed.

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Thursday, April 23, 2009

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My Cats

Two of my cats are looking into and under everything here in my room. Tigger was walking around making plaintive sounds and looking. Keke is just looking. Moon is somewhere else and Autumn is up on her bed sound asleep. God, I love them. They are so precious and I get such a kick out of them. Autumn is the shyest cat I've ever had. My cats were always friendly to everybody. Moon is over friendly. He expects pats and ongoing attention from anyone who comes through the door. He is the head cat. He eats first, making his "apprentice", Tigger, wait. Autumn though can come up and just knock Moon away from the food and he lets her. Until this week, when people came in, the only cat they saw and were forced to pet, was Moon. Lately, Tigger and Keke have been venturing out. They ignore visitors; they don't really trust human beings except for us. We feed and pet them. I change their kitty litters which doesn't actually make them happy. They don't like me fooling around with it. Especially Tigger and Keke expect the litters to clean themselves. Or whatever.
Keke likes to sit in my lap and Tigger flops on me in the bed. Tigger is still wary even of me, but he's getting better day by day. Both of them are easily startled. I don't know how long they were outside. Because Tigger's brother showed up recently in South Philly, where Tigger came from, I can see Tigger and Keke were kittens. Or I think so. Tigger's brother has a huge Tom head and Tigger doesn't, which means I got him fixed before he was fully grown. Keke has learned to put his claws in when he sits on my lap. His little paw pads are so soft, like little baby toes. I have never doubted animals have souls. I am the guardian of my little colony of four. And I love them.