My Life

I'm relaxing for a few minutes. My shoulder is stiff today, and after PT, it really hurts. I'm coming along very well. Apparently my movement is better than expected. I'm pleased, but it's annoying to have to baby my right arm. Also I was upset that I had so much trouble getting in and out of a truck yesterday. I started standing on one leg whenever I think about it. I need to improve my balance. My legs are weak too. I need to walk, but I can't yet because I need to hold the cane in my right arm. The cane is to help prevent my falling. I have fallen twice since the end of September and that's not counting last night, pretty much falling out of the truck.
The truck was to pick up a wooden dog house for the neutered feral kittens I've adopted. My daughter and her boyfriend brought them down. They had been living under a tree and getting picked on by one of her outside males. She takes care of four. So now I have these babies in cages in the garage. One has let me pet him, so he's not too feral. My daughter tells me the other one is very friendly too. They're traumatized by having been caught and being in cages. They each have little warm kitty houses in their cages and they can see each other. In a week or two, I'll let them roam the garage. If my arm felt alright, I'd go out and talk to them. I hope it will be okay soon. I want to go out and feed them again. I really do love animals. My neighbors dog would probably live here half the time if he had the choice. That's Max, the Yellow Labrador Retriever. He's still a wild puppy at 10 months or less, but he's full size. If he grows anymore, he'll be the size of the Burmese Mountain Dog next door. I throw dog biscuits over the fence to him and his "sister", Cinder, the Rotweiler. I was standing on a crate, but this morning, I was in a hurry, so they may have thought the dog biscuits flew off the fence by a miracle.
Speaking of miracles, I've had some lately. Jerry did at least three things. When I visited his grave, just afterward, the card filled up with smoke. Then, when Harry and I were watching a television program about a haunted house, Jerry's framed photo on the mantelpiece flew off to the floor. None of the others moved. Then, a few days later, I was sitting here at my computer, facing the windows, and one shade went up two inches. That's it. It didn't snap; it just went up the two or three inches as though I did it. The psychics I know said one of my aunts or mother pushed Jerry to do it and he did. The woman had dark hair and a hat and was in the photos I had been looking at. It was probably my Aunt Pauline, Jerry's mother, who was wearing the most hats.
I think that was the most psychic stuff that happened. It's later now. The kittens have eaten twice and they have hard food in their cages. The little one, Kiki Squeaky purrs and rubs against my hand. He cries to come out. Tigger, the orange one is depressed and doesn't come out, but he does eat when I'm not there. Kiki seems normal. He wanted to see what my son was doing making noise. And he has this tiny meow like Autumn. It's very cute. I hate to leave him outside. (He's in a cage, covered by blankets, on risers, in a little bed covered by a box so he can feel safe. Both of them have everything they need in their crates. He's very young though and clingy. I guess time will tell.

I fed and talked to the cats this evening. I made and ate too much popcorn. I am not researching how many calories or carbs it has. Our son was here for dinner and that was nice. I need to work on my website but haven't. I need to start working on the canes, but haven't. And I guess I need to stop writing and go take a bath and go to bed. Or watch Colbert. My left eyelid is twitching like mad off and on. I had a bleed in that eye too. Life happens. That's just how it is. I forgot, I sold the car too. And visited my outside plants. It feels like a pretty good day.

FEAR OF REALITY

Blood Diamonds is on TV, but I couldn't watch it. Real, horrible violence is frightening. I love mysteries and lots of stuff that doesn't get to that level. I remember the horrors of Sierre Leone, and now, Darfur. What goes on in Africa is even more heinous than some of the other genocides in our world. I think it's the mindless violence. In Bosnia, the victims knew their murderers. They were often next-door neighbors. Same with the Holocaust. Not so in South and Central America. There it's more political and power stuff. It's kind of in the middle. Dropping tied up students into the ocean from an airplane, is, I guess, more terrifying than being shot at random, but perhaps not in the same league as Darfur. Who knows? That is a horrible comparison to have to make. We make the violent apes look gentle. But, that's us.

We're stupid too. Why would people given the marvelous right to vote choose someone on the basis of a better drinking buddy and ignore that person's persistent failures, prejudice, and the fact that the person represented ideas opposite to the voter's self preservation? The Republicans stand for big money keeping their money and cuts in services to needy and the general public. So why would working people in Michigan or anywhere else vote for Republicans? I know lots of working people resent poor people getting services for free. The worker wants to see personally the disabled person is starving. That's sick. The same worker gives up college help for his children, infrastructure repair including safe bridges and protection against floods. When we don't help black people on roofs in a flood, white people give up clean beaches and open libraries. You don't get new highways if you don't build new school buildings. The only people who would stop health care for children are the same ones who let bridges deteriorate to the state where they fail and cars with people inside them drop into the river. No matter how many times the statistics are printed, shouted, put on tee shirts, people still believe what they feel. Forget facts, like they don't count because the facts don't uphold the prejudices. I'm truly sick of it but I'm used to it and ignoring it.

Just like everyone else, I live my life in a cocoon that I assiduously maintain. I shut out my neighbors because I suspect their ideas would clash with mine. I pray they haven't sought out my artwork because I fear they'd think me a pervert. No, I'm not, but most people don't understand free spirits and I seriously fit into that category. Taking up life in a single house with a garden and a private driveway is a panacea, or a step toward it if you've lived all your life on one street sharing steps, patios, and driveways. I realize that if I become disabled, rather than survive in a group living situation, suicide should be my answer. I'm assuming this will not happen for a good long time, but whenever it might occur, I will look for Jerry and hope he takes my hand and leads me to another place. Meanwhile, at this moment, Autumn lays on my desk, her tail ringing the mouse. She waits for me to go to sleep, forgetting she has to wait until Harry awakens in the morning before she can sleep on my chest. My furbaby wants my attention.

The Artist's Workroom

It's Saturday at 3 in the afternoon. I'm still in my nightgown and I'm relaxing in my workroom. All my clean, washed clothes are sitting on my drawing desk waiting for me to, perhaps, shelve them. Errant shoes, one of each pair, are strewn around half the room. Jerry's albums are stacked near me, ready to be advertised and sold. The orange fabric for the second half of my curtains and the middle lay abandoned on the drawing table and over the sewing machine. A bra needing minor repair lays over that. It's quite a mess, but I love every inch of it. It's mine and every little piece speaks to me. Right now, my right shoulder is healing. I have done more with it than I believe I was allowed, but I'm impatient. I see the doctor Monday.

Harry is doing all the housework he can tolerate and the rest isn't being done. I'm working at relaxing. Right now, I'm in my workroom. It's quiet here. From where I sit, I look out the window to the tops of trees, still green with their exuberant leaves. It's wonderful. This "morning", I sat out on our deck on the swing with the overhead cover. I talked on the phone while the acorns shot noisely from the sky. It's hilarious unless I happened to be hit by one. This past week, I finished planting the trees and plants that had arrived while I was in the hospital. Two days ago, the Weeping Willow came and I have to figure out how to plant it. I fell into the hole dug for the creepers. It took me a long time to get up, mainly because I couldn't use my right arm and my legs are so weak. Harry would have pulled me out but he wasn't home. I hurt a little extra the day after, but I'm as fine as I could be now. I'm on Percocet now, instead of Oxycodone. Percocet isn't as good, but it will do. My other choices are Ultram or a morphine derivative. Maybe before the end, I'll remember the name. That shoulder surgery has a painful recovery. I doubt any of the other ones are less painful though. But that's what pain killers are for.

I am setting up volunteering and doing it too. I've been volunteering for an on-line mentoring program for underprivileged teenagers. I have a few active kids this year and I enjoy them. They keep me busy. I also signed up to read to small children for Delaware Read Aloud, a state funded program. And I just told the Pennsylvania lupus group if they need me, I'll help them down here. For that, I'd mostly talk or give out information. That is, if they trust me enough. I'm really a loose canon. Political talk just pours out of my mouth, and does whatever else I'm ruminating. I would want me, but I like me. I don't know about conservative people who fit in. I doubt I'm their woman.

I guess that's it for now. I'll review my day later.

We watched the movie 1408 downstairs. It was pretty exciting, written by Steven King. Earlier, we had dinner out. I have most of mine in the frig. I had their onion soup as an appetizer and it filled me up. It's hard to pass up, it's delicious and it comes with dinner. We have a couple of nice restaurants in town and some in the malls. I think the best are in town. In Philly, I was fourteen miles from Center City and there was almost nothing left in our neighborhood. It was going down fast. We escaped to our dream house in the country.