THE ARTISTS SPEAKS...JOKES...RANTS..TATTLES..SHOWS PICTURES ETC.

Sleeping with my girl

2012-01-27T00:27:00.001-05:00

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.

Cats Don't Tell Time Or Worry

2012-01-18T23:01:00.004-05:00

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.

Tuesday on Tuesday

2012-01-10T16:45:00.004-05:00

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.

Letting Evil People Go By

2012-01-08T16:31:00.003-05:00

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.

Mom's Leaving soon

2011-12-27T23:19:00.001-05:00

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.

Golden Dreams

2011-12-11T00:38:00.001-05:00

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!

How Bad Can a Housecleaning Business Be?

2011-11-24T21:04:00.003-05:00

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.

The Wedding

2011-11-15T20:17:00.000-05:00

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
ceremony.

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.

Getting Ready

2011-10-21T15:12:00.004-04:00

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.

Our Cats and Their Vet: Not Exactly a Love Story

2011-09-29T21:49:00.003-04:00

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.

spiritual spring

2011-09-14T14:43:00.007-04:00

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.

Our Cats and Grandpuppy

2011-09-07T20:45:00.004-04:00

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.

Talking Back!

2011-09-04T16:19:00.005-04:00

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.

Cats At Work

2011-08-31T15:32:00.003-04:00

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.

2011-08-28T15:41:00.002-04:00

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

2011-07-28T22:35:00.000-04:00

Port Orford Hooray!

2011-07-28T15:09:00.004-04:00

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.

Listen to the Plants Singing

2011-05-19T15:20:00.005-04:00

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.

Holiday Saturday!

2011-04-22T22:52:00.002-04:00

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.

My LIfe With Harry's Knee Replacement

2011-04-19T23:20:00.003-04:00

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.

Fishdom

2011-04-05T15:59:00.001-04:00

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

Spring

2011-04-04T14:04:00.003-04:00

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.

Life Changes

2011-03-31T14:40:00.003-04:00

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.

Moon Introduces Tuesday

2009-08-30T16:09:00.003-04:00

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.

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

2009-08-02T23:32:00.003-04:00

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.

Central Nervous System Lupus and Psychic Awareness

2009-06-27T22:53:00.003-04:00

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.

My Cats

2009-04-23T23:50:00.004-04:00

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.

Nanny Job Goes South or Somewhere

2009-04-20T16:10:00.001-04:00

My little nanny job went south. The woman didn't even call me; I called her to tell her I'd be there. She had been worried I would allow her kids to do whatever they wanted, and even though I told her that wouldn't be the case, I think she decided "No", after all. She told me she'd received a letter today laying her off and I took her at her word, but I think her word was worth nothing. Who gets a letter and that day, they're laid off? Hospitals, which is where she works, give you notice. And a person with manners calls as soon as possible and preferably, tells the truth. I would really like to work for someone I trusted. I don't need the job; I wanted to work with children for a couple days a week. I get a very bad feeling about that young woman. I think she talked with someone else and decided to hire that person. Maybe her children liked that person too. Good. It's underhanded, but lots of people are sneaky. First off, I'd like to work for a person who liked me at least. Appreciation would be a big deal. I guess I shouldn't expect that. But I do want honesty. Not somebody telling me a ridiculous story like this woman did. I imagine another nanny job will come down the pike. Women have to work, and young college women finish school and want to work in whatever field they studied for. Usually, being a nanny isn't a career.
I'm upset, disappointed. I doubt I would like working for someone who wasn't even going to call me and tell me I wouldn't be needed. Ugh! It's like the Art Galleries. Jeez, aren't there any honest people left? Now I know why my friend Nancy is so picky about her clients. I'm not used to this, but it's a good idea for me to work at.

Getting Clean

2009-03-10T12:24:00.003-04:00

All I'm gonna do is complain. My weight has gone up. I'm trying to get "clean" like in OA and so far, I'm not making it. What I want to do is stop as soon as I get the signal. Even before that, I want to set out a portion for myself. Last night, I mixed a big glass of Bailey's and seltzer. I didn't need that. And I inhaled a tuna hoagie, which I guess was better than inhaling an Italian hoagie.

2009-03-03T12:08:00.002-05:00

My weight has been climbing. I thought I would get back down to 190 and stay there, but instead, I've gained weight. I know I want my body to be acceptable to my vision of myself--chunky, but not a overtly pear shape. To me, I look like Humpty Dumpty. I don't have big breasts; it all goes to my butt, or now, my belly. Waist? What waist? And what's that? That might be menopause, but it's too big. Of course, I want to eat whatever I choose, and at most, guestimate the calories. I'm forgetting that fat is building up in my carotid artery. (Like I'm gonna care about that. Don't we all live forever? Does our fat influence our health? Our bodies, my body, doesn't believe it.) Harry is a major undermining factor, he has yet to cut down. His office is candy and junk food central. And I eat it. I can't blame him really. He's not ready. His risks are greater than mine, but we're both blind. No wonder our health-conscious daughter has given up.
I believe my weight shot up after I started anti-depressants, but I'm certainly not willing to risk depression to lose weight. My acceptance is sitting there and could be tapped. I'm giving myself time and the use of the Sparkpeople tools. And I'm hoping.

Pulling My Life Together

2008-12-23T00:00:00.001-05:00

Pulling My Life Together
Current mood: busy
Category: Life

It looks like hundreds of people--just short of 500--have read this blog. That doesn't seem likely, unless they look, then realize I haven't written about Art or politics, or whatever they want to read.
I went shopping today, for one Hanukkah gift, a hat, and some other things. I hit only Boscov's; they had it all. Now that it's very cold, I'm wearing a down jacket, but I lost my red hat to the mice in the garage. (I dumped everything.) I bought two much too small nightshirts that stretch. I liked them and I hope I lose weight so they won't look so awful. I love to shop and sometimes I buy too much. That happens when you grow up poor and wanting things you'll never get. After that, it's hard to say no to what you want.
When I was a young teenager, my fellow students dressed in beautiful clothes, with leather handbags and shoes that were expensive. Kids like to dress the same, and everyone who could did. I came from the same background they did, but my family couldn't afford those kind of clothes if they could afford any at all. I wore hand-me-downs from my older cousin in New York. My mom didn't sew well and neither did I, but we took in Cousin Sharon's dresses and jumpers. We hemmed. I must have looked strange. I think I was the only Jewish kid who dressed poor. I felt "less than", deprived, angry, and in pain. Junior High School is always torturous, but my experience was hell. I made it hell because I didn't know how to deal with my pain and anger. My mom thought my reality was my imagination and that left no one to tell. No wonder I couldn't wait to get out of that house and school.
Nothing improved, and I got crazier, until when I was nineteen, I started psychotherapy with an unusual guy. For a long time, looking back, I denigrated what he did for me, but finally, I realize he brought me out of psychosis. I'm still wacky, and I like wacky people. He used to call me a kook, but working with him, I was able to live in reality, and eventually, to have another child. (He thought that was nuts too.) I used to get fired regularly, but I see now that was okay. I was telling the truth, and bringing light onto the insanity of the work situations. Never a good idea, but I just couldn't play along. I still can't, but now I don't want to. Don't have to.
I went for more therapy later. That stint helped me delve into my deepest feelings and accept myself.
The moral of the story is that therapy can give a desperate person a satisfying life. Definitely worthwhile.

2008-12-21T13:42:00.002-05:00

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Max’s Opinions
Current mood: busy
Category: Pets and Animals

MAX'S OPINIONS

Jaynee's friend Max is a Yellow Labrador Retriever who lives across the street. He read the articles by our cats and feels he should have an opportunity to speak his mind too.

Hi, I'm Max. The dog biscuit lady is my good friend. When I go outside, I like to spend my time with her. I remember when I lived there a little bit. I enjoyed eating the cat food and I could go up and down the three staircases. She fed me meat from her plate and gave me lots of pets. I loved running around her backyard too, it was perfect. She has no crates in her house. I would like to live there, with the biscuit lady. I tell her this every time I see her, but she doesn't understand.

My dad takes me outside and uses a hockey stick to throw my ball far away and I go catch it. He yells at me when I take care of doggie business on other lawns. I know I'm not a person; I'm a dog, why does he get angry? I sometimes get to talk with Moon when I sit by the woman's door. Moon says he wouldn't mind me living here if I could convince the biscuit lady to get better food. He says he has two brothers now, and his sister is still here. He's disgusted she's getting special food and he isn't. I assured him I would help him get lots of goodies.

I have certain beliefs that should be universal. Cars should be forbidden and junked. People should walk outside most of the day. Dogs should be able to walk without leashes visiting other dogs and people. People and dogs should eat the same food and share the table. There should always be meat for meals, particularly steak. Television should have one station—Animal Planet. Every evening, the dogs and families should relax and watch Animal Planet together with snacks being served at dog level. Cats should be kept in one room only. Their claws are dangerous. People should be de-barked so they do not yell at their dogs or each other. Hitting or beating a dog should be punishable by death. I am sure these maxims would ensure a better world.

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Crazed Email From a Guy in Delaware
Current mood: rushed
Category: News and Politics

HARRY MARTIN POLIS, poet-philosopher

E-mail: harrymartinpolis@yahoo.com

http://www.poet-cop.com/

ICQ 10954537

WHY WE LOSE FRIENDS

This is a long story… When we moved down to Delaware, Jaynee began illustrating a book for two authors. As time went by, we all became friends. We enjoyed dinners out with these two couples and a friendship was brewing.

Jaynee likes to send my articles to friends and acquaintances. She included These authors and their spouses in her email list and sent them my articles. We usually get feedback from people. However, one of my articles lauding Obama got a different response. Here is a copy of the email sent by the female author's husband:

Obama is a very left-wing liberal democrat who has had a long relationship with a racist pastor and church, refused for the longest time to wear a US flag pin on his lapel, has one of the most liberal voting records in congress and NEVER tells the truth. he pretends to now because he's running for the Presidency. The GOP didn't lead us into two wars. they just finished what the dems started but didn't have the guts to finish! Clinton was handed Bin Laden on a silver platter back in the mid-nineties and let him off the hook. he also stripped the CIA of much of their power and funding, during his presidency, which resulted in the bad info Bush got.

How any intelligent person can be fooled by this rookie, wet-behind-the-ears phony is beyond me. You should thank GOD that Bush at least has the guts to fight the terrorists on their own ground rather than ours. If Obama wins this country will be doomed! If you think the terrorists want to be our friends and get along with us you are very naive.

People in this country had better wake up soon before its too late. Obama is a traitor and un-American just like the Dems. there's a very good reason why all these terrorist groups want to see him win!! I think people who support Obama must hate their own country because there's no logic behind this kind of support. A vote for Obama is a vote for defeat.

Later, the same man added:

there are a lot more criminals and killers who get off the hook because of some legal loop-hole found by their slimey lawyers. that happens a lot more than so-called 'innocent' people being in person and getting executed. how come THAT doesn't unsettle you!!?

I don't know who's a bigger threat to this country - Dems, liberals or terrorists, its a toss-up!
This is why we are no longer friends with these people. I am aware there are many conservative Americans, but I think this man's philosophy goes way beyond conservative. It's creepy.

Currently reading :
Dead to the World (Southern Vampire Mysteries, Book 4)
By Charlaine Harris
Release date: 2005-05-03

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Tigger: My Story

2008-12-11T18:02:00.000-05:00

HARRY MARTIN POLIS, poet-philosopher
E-mail: harrymartinpolis@yahoo.com

http://www.poet-cop.com/

ICQ # 10954537

TIGGER: MY STORY

Keke and Tigger

Hi, my name is Tigger. I'm the Ginger cat in the photo. The little black and white cat is my adopted son. We met on the streets of South Philadelphia. I had been surviving for a couple of years on whatever I could find. I usually hung out behind the shopping centers near the river with other cats. Life was hard. One day, in the summer of 2006, I took a walk into where the houses were and found Keke. He was pitiful. I took him under my wing and showed him how to search out food and stay safe. We enjoyed our time together and it was great to have a friend. When the weather started to cool off, I took Keke into a little residential street with me and we settled under a tree. Away from the river, there just wasn't any other place, but I though we would be okay there, in our little hideaway.

While we huddled under the tree, I watched the people who lived in the houses. One young woman looked especially interesting. There were cats in her house who I could see in the windows, and she talked to the little female cats who were strolling by. I didn't trust people, but I decided to ask this woman who loved cats if she would help us. I approached her on her steps a few times, and she told me she would look for a home for us. Success!!

Just a few days later, the young lady and her boyfriend, tricked us into cages and drove us out to Delaware to the lady's mother. Life became amazing and wonderful! They made a lovely home for us in the garage, fed us canned and hard food--no more trash!--and gave us the run of their yard and the park beyond. Keke loved the mom, and let her carry him around. I let her pet me and I could see she knew that was a great privilege. This summer, the mom brought us into the house with her other two cats, Moon and Autumn. Keke and I still cry. We can't help it; we remember our old life and we worry that we will have to live on the streets again. We're waiting and watching, but we're also enjoying our home.

Heaven Visit

2008-11-28T00:48:00.000-05:00

You know I believe I go to "the other side" in my vivid dreams. I believe I did last night. My guardian angel took me, and with my agreement, she handed me over to a friend of my mother's, who took me around. I was in a huge room filled with women sitting around tables that were around columns. They were all thinking. That's it. (It sounds almost identical to scenes I've seen before.)The first table turned around to see me. The first person I remember was my husband's aunt--our favorite. I hugged and kissed her. Then I saw other women I didn't know who looked like women I had known. I was too shy to just go up and hug them, and talked to my guide about it. She encouraged me. There was a wonderful feeling of love coming toward me from those women. I awoke then.
Later, I was upstairs at our old house or my parent's house. My husband's aunts were downstairs and I knew they were agreeing on their negative opinion of my housekeeping. I was disturbed by that and that I didn't get any points for painting.
I hope I told you about my brother coming to my husband. I think I'm getting this because I'm meditating again. I hope I keep it up.

Autumn's Late Fall Report

2008-11-19T00:04:00.000-05:00

AUTUMN’S LATE FALL REPORT
Hi, this is Autumn Moon again. Now that the election is over, my family is finally getting back to normal. They were so worried; they were forgetting to buy me special treats and food. I’m glad Obama was elected; I don’t think that Navy guy liked cats. He got too angry and I didn’t trust him. Now, Mom has that special chair in her room and I can sleep with her in addition to helping her on the computer. I know she’s more relaxed all the time from my sleeping on her legs. I do that.
Since my last report, those two stray cats who lived in the garage, moved into my house. I can’t stand the little black and white one. He tries to climb on Mom and sleep with her, and that’s only for me. I really hate to lower myself to anger, but I hiss at him, warning him away. Usually, it works, and the other times, I have to hit him. Occasionally, I allow him to have a little Mom-time so he doesn’t get depressed. Depressed felines take all their human guardian’s times.
The little black and white cat has a friend who came in with him. His friend is blond and beautiful like me. His fur isn’t as long as mine is, but most cats do not reach my high level. However, I accept this blond furball because he respects my superiority. He kisses my fur and goes away. Wonderful!
Mom has been feeding a gray cat on the deck. I have been telling her to stop, but she is still doing it. I have not given up. I also told her to contact the Obamas and tell them to get a couple of cats. They are such good people; they deserve the kind of devotion only cats can give.

Editor’s Note: Autumn Moon is a gorgeous, affectionate Main Coon cat but it’s hard to convince her she is not the center of the earth.

Our Election

2008-11-10T00:36:00.000-05:00

HARRY MARTIN POLIS, poet-philosopher

E-mail: harrymartinpolis@yahoo.com
http://www.poet-cop.com/
ICQ # 10954537

OUR ELECTION
Last week was unique. It was wonderful. First, the Phillies won the World Series. Then, our candidate, Barack Obama, was elected the 44th President of the United States. All over America, people were crying and dancing in the streets! There was Jesse Jackson, Oprah, and even …….. Matthews crying. And me. For the last two years, along with many other people, I have prayed Barack Obama would become our President. I read the Philly, New York, and Delaware newspapers, and watch the pundits on MSNBC. I understood why it was imperative for our nation to elect Obama. And we did it! I thank God that President Obama won 52% of the vote.
The people who fought for and laid down their lives for Civil Rights are crying for joy. No one believed we would see this day. Children called their parents to share the joy. We have not arrived yet, but we are on the road. It was the time for celebration.
From Kansas and Hawaii, from parents American and Kenyan, a brilliant leader has emerged. We all pray he can bring us out of the pain and sorrow President Bush has brought on us. Truly, there is no one more able. We have elected a man who has a good chance of being great.
Copyright 2008 by Harry Martin Polis and edited by Jaynee Levy-Polis
Harry is available for lectures and entertainment with stories and poetry. Contact SCOOP USA, or e-mail Harry.

OBAMA

2008-11-05T00:51:00.000-05:00

Obama won the presidency! I still think Americans are stupid, don't look for facts, and elect presidents on personality. The economy is in the toilet, so they rejected the Republicans. I never knew college graduates in particular voted for W in the last election. That's definitely a statement and a half. I'm truly thrilled Obama has been elected. Hallelujah!

Spiced Rum Now

2008-10-26T00:33:00.000-04:00

For a reason I don't know, I can't get Saturday Night Live on TV. I was watching a Zombie/Vampire movie and turned that off to see SNL. I've been watching it since they started the Sarah Palin stuff. I'm sipping way too much Spiced Rum and chillin'. I drink too much and I'm concerned about Alzheimer's and brain damage. OBS My dad had Alzheimer's from age 78 on. I didn't want him to live the walking dead routine I'd witnessed in nursing homes. I worried. Luckily, he passed away just when it started to get worse. One thing was funny. When anybody called and Dad picked up the phone, if they wanted my mother and she was out of sight, he said she was out shopping. It seemed like she spent an awful lot of time gallivanting around. He was a very nice man. Smart.
My nature is like my dad's. He was a social butterfly, and when I get out of the house, I am too. He had a lot of disappointments and he didn't get to blossom. I don't know that I've had much of that sorrow, but I'm still depressed. As long as I'm not suicidal, I'm okay with it. Especially if I can have some spiced rum on ice at night. During the part of the day when I'm awake, I try to do at least some of what I think I'm supposed to do. Plus, I have lots of coffee and read the newspapers. I feed the cat outside who visits. And later on, I paint. I think I'm finished the flowers and I don't have that much to do on the apple. I can't tell. It's cute. I want to frame the flowers before I take a picture of the painting. I'm really happy painting with no thought of galleries or fame. Reputation. Any of that crap. Eventually, I probably will have to do some kind of open studio or something, to get rid of some of my work. So far, I'm getting ready to store all the watercolor/pastels that don't make me happy, and hang oil paintings in their stead. That is, if the particular oil painting makes me feel good.
Uh oh. The peanut gallery has to close. It's going on 1AM.

As Good As It Gets

2008-10-17T00:36:00.001-04:00

My leg hurts. Nine days ago, I had arthroscopic knee surgery to repair a torn meniscus and hack off some arthritic gunk. I wondered why not just my knee, but my leg hurt. It turns out, to do the surgery, they take the blood out of the knee by applying a tourniquet. Ugh. I found out that down the line, my knee pain will increase, but new knees don't come with my problem. Great news. Not.
I sleep from about 2 AM till 11 AM, then read my email and messages till about 12 noon. My day starts for real, maybe about 2. I often end up painting till 9 at night. That's fine. I feel as though I'm not doing enough though. I have lists from months ago that I never did. I feel like all I actually DO is paint. I'll go back to the water exercise because I have to. I don't like to be bothered. All I want to do is paint, read the paper, play with the kittens, and watch television. And sleep. I should be painting the canes. I keep saying I will, but I haven't. So much gets forgotten that I wish I had done. Wish I would do, but probably won't.
I'm lonely. I wish I had friends down here. So far, everyone I meet is either conservative or too religious. They don't know Jews down here. It's like we're exotic creatures that live somewhere else. I was friendly with one woman and found out her husband was something of a lout. Intelligent, but ignorant. I don't want to start up a friendship with a woman married to someone I can't stand, unless the woman is really my kind of person. That kind is liberal, progressive, open-minded, honest, smart, and open. Kooky is good too. How many people in Delaware, or anywhere, are like that?
Delaware is a great state for Harry and I, in that everything we need is within about fifteen minutes driving time. That includes all the shopping. The doctors and hospital are five minutes away. We couldn't have afforded a house in Pennsylvania where that would have been the situation. I know it's not possible to have everything. I have a lot here. I still love my house and our front and backyards. I'm thrilled to be here. I guess I kinda wish the neighbors and people I see around would be my type of people. I know now why my mother used to say Delaware was full of "hicks". I wonder what she thought of people in Ohio?
So, I think I'm depressed. I'm taking what I think of as tons of psychiatric medications to brighten my mood. I guess they're keeping me out of bed and away from the knife container. Probably, the shoulds are killing me. I wish with all my heart that Jerry was still here. He had the patience to read philosophy and know all the world's religions. He gave me one piece of the most important information I know: 'All I need to do is be.' I need him now. I need to know more, but I don't want to open the books. Fantasy is so much easier. Even history. Those books only tell me that we're all crazy and not getting any better. (Tell me how people like W, Hillary, and the rest of them aren't depressed. Why not? How not? Is that actually possible?)
I'm mixed up. It's okay to go right into death being confused. There are lots of things that are worse. Natch. Well, I'm 60, I'm not ready to turn to dust. I still have painting to do, and I enjoy my kids and kittens. Harry is looking better with his gray hair, albeit cranky and not feeling well. That's as good as it gets.

Our Fur Babies

2008-10-13T22:39:00.000-04:00

My Keke
A year ago, our daughter discovered two cats living under a tree across the street from her house. She works with a group who catch, neuter, and return feral cats to their previous homes. These two though were being beaten up by other male cats in her neighborhood. Our daughter asked us to consider allowing the two cats to live in our garage. She told us they would die living outside with no protection from the weather. We agreed to take the cats if she would help. Our daughter did everything necessary, including setting up a little warm house for them and putting in a little cat door into the garage.
Tigger, an average size light ginger cat, was very afraid. Little Keke, a black and white tabby, was friendly immediately. They loved roaming the little park beyond our backyard. There were suddenly no birds, mice, or squirrels in our backyard. This past summer, Keke and Tigger both sat with me on our swing out back. Tigger wouldn't get up on the swing, but he began to run in front of me and lay down in my path. I would lean over, pet him, and walk on. Tigger would keep running ahead of me and laying down. He wouldn't allow me to pick him up.
Finally, at the end of the summer, I brought both cats into the sunroom for the veterinarian to examine with the intention of making them part of our feline household. I was really afraid of their getting hurt. (We live in Delaware where a kitten was tortured to death in the Spring.) The vet finally gave them the okay, and they joined Autumn and Moon with the whole house as their territory.
Tigger now comes to me and cries to be petted. He still rolls over but won't get onto the chair or anywhere more convenient for petting. Keke is a total joy. He's fearless and adorable. He ignores Moon's hissing and growling and does whatever he wants, including chasing Moon or Autumn. The vet judged Tigger to be six, and Keke four, by their teeth. I can't believe Keke could be four. He's the size of a six-month old kitten and soooooo affectionate. Little Keke slept with me last night and he gives me cat kisses on my hand and does the cat nose rub. There are many homeless kittens and cats waiting for homes. They take very little care if they stay indoors. No fleas, no disease. Each cat needs at least one kitty litter and they're not difficult to clean. Cats live on average live from twelve to sixteen years old and they give love and affection differently, but as much as dogs. If they have a special corregated cardboard to scratch, they leave the furniture alone and they rarely scratch their family except by accident or if you are playing "cat" with them. Cats are independent, as smart as dogs, but they learn to respond to their names. They are endlessly curious and it's very hard not to think of them as "our furry babies".

House A Mess

2008-10-12T11:28:00.000-04:00

HARRY MARTIN POLIS, poet-philosopher

E-mail: harrymartinpolis@yahoo.com
http://www.poet-cop.com/
ICQ # 10954537

HOUSE A MESS
I need to complain for a minute or two. Jaynee has wanted to put a full bathroom in the family room since we moved in. We had a tiny powder room, a deep closet, and a larger laundry room in the intended area. Nothing was quite large enough and they were already cluttered with paint and tools when we came. It took a few months of investigation, and Jaynee found a small company to do the conversion. Jaynee sat down with Eloy Sosa, who owns the company with his brother, and planned the new bathroom. Jaynee always planned to have a shower, and because Eloy is a master tiler, this bathroom would have tiled walls and floors. When the walls were knocked down, the space was too small for the washer and dryer, so vertical units had to be purchased. The window was too close to the washer/dryer “closet”, so a new one had to be installed. Two doors were closed off and the walls redone. Probably the most difficult part was drilling the cement floor to extend the water line and drain.
Meanwhile, the entire house is filled with dust. It is not obvious how the two new cats add to the furry dust; they have blended right in with our other two cats. For a long while, our washer and dryer were in the driveway. The guys set up their machinery on a part of our garden, but were careful of the holly bush. Our beautiful family room has two pathways now. The furniture is pushed together in the center and it’s all covered with dust.
The shower doors and the vanity will take a while to get here. There is no sink in the downstairs bathroom for now. The bathroom is gorgeous though. Jaynee picked out medium blue tiles and they go all the way up to the ceiling. When the bathroom is done, and I can’t wait, it will be special.
Copyright 2008 by Harry Martin Polis and edited by Jaynee Levy-Polis
Harry is available for lectures and entertainment with stories and poetry. Contact SCOOP USA, or e-mail Harry.

Michael's Restaurant

2008-10-02T12:17:00.000-04:00

I had a question so our waitress explained I would have to ask the manager, so I went looking for “Bob”, the manager. Bob turned out to be the man tending bar. He apparently did not intend to answer me at the reservation desk, but I was not going away until he did.
Mr. Bob was rude. The man was already touting a miserable facial expression and demeanor. Apparently, it took very little to set him off. Bob is one of Michael’s managers and he seats customers. I wrote to Michael’s about what happened to me. Mrs. Moskowitz—she and her husband own the restaurant—answered, promising to send me some kind of coupon. Since she supported her manager's behavior, I wrote again complaining about how their manager had acted. She did not answer and needless to say, I never received any coupon.
I do not patronize restaurants where staff is surly. Michael’s fare is mediocre at best. Their salad bar is their draw. While not comparing with Charlie Brown’s, it is a good one. For a slim or small person, going there is a waste of money. Harry and I call this kind of restaurant a “Tie on the feed bucket” eatery. The salad bar is misleading; a name closer to reality would be “Joe’s Eats”. With that name, a glowering host/manager and completely uninspired meals would be no surprise. I definitely do NOT recommend this gussied up hole-in-the-wall. One problem and the customer would find a very nasty brick wall, not the family-owned friendly face for which one might be looking.

The Bounty of American Liberals

2008-09-25T20:13:00.001-04:00

The Bounty of the American Liberals

One of my favorite columnists is Bob Herbert from the New York Times. Recently, he wrote a column about all the advancements made by liberals: Social Security; Medicare; Medicaid; Food Stamps; Unemployment Compensation; Head Start; Legal Aid; USDA; etc. The list is very long. Jaynee went to college on a federal program that was cut by Ronald Reagan. All these programs were fought “tooth and nail” by the conservatives but Liberals succeeded in getting these programs established despite Republican dirty fighting and personal slurs. If the reactionaries—that is what conservatives really are—had their way, our nation would have4 the rich and poor with no middle class. Only the rich would have real rights and services. For the poor, the working conditions of the 1800’s would still be the law.

The Republicans support the base who support them—the wealthy Americans. After the Civil War and Jim Crow, the Republicans captured the Dixiecrats because the Democrats had become the liberals, gradually increasing their support of the worker. Through code words clearly stating their distrust and fear of minorities, educated people, and facts, the Republicans were able to bring rope in working people who were afraid of the new age, true freedom, and new ideas. The fight against The Age of Aquarius that started in the 1960’s is still being fought. The working fools vote for the Republicans believing they can hold back the tide. The best they can achieve is putting a lid on America’s future. Thought and insight can never be stopped, but the freedom to speak it, the acceptance of change, and goodwill toward our brother man, can be thwarted. Ultimately, without consciously pursuing that goal, is the Shangri-La of the Republicans and their working class troglodytes.

Copyright 2008 by Harry Martin Polis and edited by Jaynee Levy-Polis

Harry is available for lectures and entertainment with stories and poetry. Contact SCOOP USA, or e-mail Harry.

Bush, McCain, The War....Obama

2008-09-03T12:11:00.001-04:00

I watched a soldiers' video on Facebook, it gave some insight into what our young people, over there, are going through. To think that a coterie of sociopaths or evil doers--take your choice--Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, et al, with no provocation, for personal vendettas, invaded a sovereign nation, and brought this on. If you hated Hussein and wished he'd been knocked off, I understand. But sending and allowing our precious children to be maimed and die is pure evil. We all know how Hallburtin has been involved and how their trucks didn't have armor. We can't watch the firefights or their coffins coming in to Dover. While our young people are being slaughtered; nations who were our previous allies have turned against us; and our television news shows puppies. I call it the puppy news and I adore dogs.
The Iraq War is a Oil Occupation, and I guess now, it's being settled because McCain needs it to be even though he is prepared to be there for 100 years. McCains life, his heart, is wrapped around wars and soldiering. Why choose a soldier for president? Especially one who isn't exactly all there? At 72, he is in older middle age, and he just isn't sharp. I think he's not very bright. He's gone off and chosen a Miss Alaska runner-up who has virtually no experience and already has violated laws. My goodness, who would want her running the nation if he died suddenly? It sounds incredible to me.
Opposing McCain are Obama and Biden, I think, a dream team. Hearing Obama, I hear JFK and MLK. A brilliant man, I do not see Obama and Biden either continuing to allow our children fighting in Iraq to stay there, nor do I envision their starting another war. Additionally, with so much hate foaming in the United States, God Forbid, but if anything happened to Obama, behind him stands a seasoned, long term, sensible legislator. Obama is, I believe, a political phenomenon that occurs rarely in America. In Delaware, where Joe Biden and I both live, Joe is known to be a good guy. More importantly, Joe's politics are good.
I do not understand how anyone can overlook Obama or vote for McCain and Palin unless that voter is very rich. Even though McCain and Palin are anathema to working people, they promise more tax relief to the very wealthy and big business, especially oil. That is the traditional Republican stance. Democrats work for and represent working people. I am old enough to have seen the difference. During my lifetime, I experienced Lyndon Johnson's Great Society only to see it torn to pieces through the presidencies of Reagan, Bush I, and Bush II. (I can't clearly remember Nixon destroying the programs, mostly just Watergate and watching his minions on television.)
I pray Obama is elected. For the good of America, for our future, Obama is a new direction. Our electing a man of color is, for us, a big step into

Bush, McCain, The War....Obama

2008-09-03T12:11:00.000-04:00

I watched the soldiers' video that's below here, it gives some insight into what our young people, over there, are going through. To think that a coterie of sociopaths or evil doers--take your choice--Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, et al, with no provocation, for personal vendettas, invaded a sovereign nation, and brought this on. If you hated Hussein and wished he'd been knocked off, I understand. But sending and allowing our precious children to be maimed and die is pure evil. We all know how Hallburtin has been involved and how their trucks didn't have armor. We can't watch the firefights or their coffins coming in to Dover. While our young people are being slaughtered; nations who were our previous allies have turned against us; and our television news shows puppies. I call it the puppy news and I adore dogs.
The Iraq War is a Oil Occupation, and I guess now, it's being settled because McCain needs it to be even though he is prepared to be there for 100 years. McCains life, his heart, is wrapped around wars and soldiering. Why choose a soldier for president? Especially one who isn't exactly all there? At 72, he is in older middle age, and he just isn't sharp. I think he's not very bright. He's gone off and chosen a Miss Alaska runner-up who has virtually no experience and already has violated laws. My goodness, who would want her running the nation if he died suddenly? It sounds incredible to me.
Opposing McCain are Obama and Biden, I think, a dream team. Hearing Obama, I hear JFK and MLK. A brilliant man, I do not see Obama and Biden either continuing to allow our children fighting in Iraq to stay there, nor do I envision their starting another war. Additionally, with so much hate foaming in the United States, God Forbid, but if anything happened to Obama, behind him stands a seasoned, long term, sensible legislator. Obama is, I believe, a political phenomenon that occurs rarely in America. In Delaware, where Joe Biden and I both live, Joe is known to be a good guy. More importantly, Joe's politics are good.
I do not understand how anyone can overlook Obama or vote for McCain and Palin unless that voter is very rich. Even though McCain and Palin are anathema to working people, they promise more tax relief to the very wealthy and big business, especially oil. That is the traditional Republican stance. Democrats work for and represent working people. I am old enough to have seen the difference. During my lifetime, I experienced Lyndon Johnson's Great Society only to see it torn to pieces through the presidencies of Reagan, Bush I, and Bush II. (I can't clearly remember Nixon destroying the programs, mostly just Watergate and watching his minions on television.)
I pray Obama is elected. For the good of America, for our future, Obama is a new direction. Our electing a man of color is, for us, a big step into

The Bush/McCain Possibilities

2008-08-29T14:12:00.000-04:00

The Democratic Convention just ended. I'm praying and hoping, Obama & the Democrats campaigning with him can wake up working people so they stop supporting rich people & big corporations. I think conservative white working class people are blinded by gay rights, the possibility of working people gaming the system--like corporations don't--black people "overrunning " the gov't & somehow, getting everything, leaving them out, and basically, their lives turning to sh*t, they're voting for more money and support for the wealthiest chiselers alive. Remember, McCain thinks people making under $500,000 are middle class. No wonder he supports only the wealthy! Really, our infrastructure is falling apart. Jes, people are falling into rivers from bridges collapsing. That's horrible! Our electric lines need overhaul because they can't support the higher energy of wind power. Our lives are now shorter than every other industrialized nation, plus some just coming up too. We have more babies die than they do too.
I wish people would look beyond Obama's name, his color--which not only is mixed, the person who raised him was a Kansas grandmother--and see our country as it is. Can't they see Republicans do not support working people and in fact, throw obstacles in worker's way? Look at the Supreme Court's decisions since they have moved to the right. The rights of the disabled and working people have been cut. I feel as though I am living with cretins, people who do not read newspapers, or think beyond the outright lies and slanders fed to them at election time. To give one vote to somebody because they would love to have a beer with him, is idiocy. That person left human beings to drown in New Orleans, then threw the thousands of survivors into a stadium with no water or bathrooms. He used up our surplus of money and threw us into debt. He used our armed forces to pursue a personal vendetta killing thousands of innocent people, both soldiers and citizens. He's made a mockery of our constitution, bending and twisting it out of shape, to jail, spy on, and justify him and his staff evading congress's investigation.
The friendly brush cutting, bicycle-riding "president" may not be an evil (or he may be), but certainly his cronies are evil-doers. I pray there is a reckoning and they are punished for the pain and catastrophe they have unleashed.

Keeping My House Clear

2008-08-21T22:15:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I'm sleeping at my daughter's house. I'll probably be here for the weekend or maybe till Sunday. She has a normal keyboard and I'm having a hard time with it. I'm bored to death and yeah, I miss everything about my house. I'm in love with my house. I guess that's okay except that houses aren't forever like love. A house is just a material thing. Okay, tell that to my heart and soul. It's the house of my dreams. I need to ask my spirits if I should bring the outside cats in. My house is perfection and I do not want to create chaos. I feel as though I increased my connection with my spirits by at least 70% (which means nothing). They're closer though. Well, no time for bullshit. My hands are cramping.

Blessings

2008-08-19T01:02:00.000-04:00

I still can't believe I'm in this beautiful house with a garden in a quiet little suburb amongst the trees. I walk down the steps at night sometimes to check on our barn cats. I unlock the front door, then the side door, and step outside, into the clean air. The grasshoppers are chirping, but there is no other noise. I walk up to the sun room, my studio, and look out from there too. I look at the yard, the patio, my garden, and I say, "It's mine." I look around at this beautiful house and I feel so lucky, so blessed.
I have lost weight recently. I work at it hard, and I pray for it to continue. I know I am a sugar addict as well as an overeater. I'm a small person with a huge desire to taste, to enjoy the food. I like to eat--a lot. So I ask my family and the spirits who attend me, to help me, to give me discipline, and the will to eat healthy. I have to think every time I consider food and the consequences of that food. It's not really voluntary, but my weight is destroying my joints, my feet, my lungs, etc. For a long time, my butt has looked like a table and my belly looks pregnant. My thighs are beginning to have dimpling all the way down to my knees and the skin on my upper arms is hanging. I now have a double chin that does not complement the lines forming on my face.
I appreciate this lovely house even more for the privacy it affords me. Dressed in my painted up work too-tight clothes, I can walk around my garden, sit on my deck and rock on the swing, or read underneath my trees on the brick patio. I'll feel more confident about my body when the fat melts off, God willing, but being in the process of losing it, and living in the house of my dreams, is wonderful. I'm still amazed.

Spirits on the Road

2008-07-27T23:36:00.000-04:00

I just remembered I forgot to wash my paintbrushes. Ugh! Well, I'm glad I finally remembered especially before I got to bed. I want to tell what happened yesterday. We drive up to Philly once a week to see my mother in law. Yesterday was our weekly trip. We stopped at CVS to buy her treats. Harry went into the store and I stayed in the car. I closed my eyes, too tired to read, but not ready to nap. I heard the car door open and Harry got into the car. I felt his weight come into the vehicle, except Harry was still in the store. No one was there when I looked up, expecting to see Harry. Was I afraid? Nope. I don't know why I wasn't scared. Today, I reflected that Harry and I were discussing how spirits ride with us in the car. I usually blast the radio and literally sing to my family while I drive. I talk to them too. I just never expected one to climb in and get ready to drive. But he did. The he was probably my father who loved to drive. In my lucid dreams, he is usually driving and I am pretty sure it was my dad. So welcome Dad! You can help me drive any time! Be my company and know I still love you. xoxo Jaynee

Life On Earth As We Know It

2008-07-25T00:33:00.000-04:00

That was my old house in Philly. I don't miss it, I don't want to see it, and I just want to forget it. I wanted to insert my drawing of my new house here, but it's not on my website...and a ton of the links don't work...and worse than that, I left out the landscape page links entirely. I'll never know if this is Lupus brain damage or just the forgetfulness of getting older. Same with the arthritis and bursitis. Who knows? If I don't, then most likely, no one will. Over the years, a Lupie finds doctors, if they suspect or believe something, will most often not say. If the tests don't confirm everything, then there is nothing.
I wanted to talk about watching myself age. Seeing my skin get thinner and crinkle, but it's late and Autumn is sitting on my lap.

Spirits on Vacation

2008-07-21T23:27:00.000-04:00

11:22 pm - Spirits on Vacation
My brother has returned home. Gradually, I'll get back to my normal schedule. I've been painting the whole time at least. Sometimes, my brother would keep me company. I've had a number of little psychic adventures beginning right before my brother left. There were three, which are: 1) my easel sinking about two inches while it was totally secure. 2) Someone touching my face when no one else was there. 3) Last night, when I was dancing in my room, my brother joined me. I could feel a lot of family in the room. I think there is another one, but I can't remember now. All that makes me very happy, knowing my brother is here with me. (No, it's the OTHER ONE.)
A friend saw Big Sammy with me. I love that dog with all my heart.
Current Location: home
Current Mood: blank
Current Music: Daily Show

Tags: spirits

Nothing Doing

2008-07-14T23:58:00.000-04:00

My brother is visiting from Oregon/California for a few weeks. It has been busy. I've been doing psychic readings on the web. It's very cool to get that stuff right. I've had a couple slight psychic adventures in the last few days too. And I like the painting I'm working on too. That's all.

Manny, Moe, and Jack

2008-07-08T23:51:00.000-04:00

Trolleys with windows that opened. A woman collecting tickets in the back in the 1940's. Watching the sights on the way downtown. There go Manny, Moe, and Jack on North Broad Street. They were still alive then. Old wooden trolleys and fancy metal ones on Germantown Avenue and most everywhere else. I liked the buses though. Little did I know. Coming into Center City on the train. All aboard! The train station.... Walking around the giant barn. Exciting. Dirty. Noisy. How do we get on the right train? How do we avoid getting killed by another train that's pulling out. So many tracks. Everyone dressed in high heels, white gloves, suits and ties.
Eating in posh restaurants. Aunt Betty telling me which fork to use and how to sit. Up straight. Not to be round-shouldered like my mom, she says. Blum's, Snellenberg's, Gimbels, Lit Brothers, so many stores. Back to Broad Street. I loved Broad Street. Walking at night with Aunt Betty down Broad Street to one of the three movie houses. So bright, so many people, so busy. So much fun.
Then New York on the bus. Christmas to the Radio City Music Hall. In summer, to the library and always to the restaurant with seltzer on tap with the water. I could station myself there and drink seltzer for dinner. We could always go there. What did they serve? Seltzer! And the Automat. Play with the coffee and sandwich machines. Put in a nickel for a cup of Joe. But nobody called it Joe. It was coffee. Why wasn't I bored? But never. Tears come with the memories. How can I ever say how good they were.

Our Kids At War

2008-07-05T00:10:00.000-04:00

I'm feeling uncomfortable with the holiday today. I mean our kids are being killed in Iraq and Afganistan. Like most people, I'm used to the sales and barbecues on holidays. Today, I just thought about our soldiers and worried for them. I was one of those people who questioned the invasion of Iraq from the beginning, probably because I didn't trust Bush or his cronies. Plus, I knew it would be important to chase bin Laden. Our soldiers and our allies' soldiers are suffering and dying in Iraq, in my opinion, for no reason. We would all love to see a real democracy in Iraq, but the chances of that are nil. As bad as Saddam was, if we wanted him out, I can't understand why we couldn't have picked him off. Well, we didn't. We've spent all of Bill Clinton's surplus and put our grandchildren into debt supposedly making over another nation. Our nation needs a totally revamped program of education, health, and infrastructure, but we went in to Iraq and made a mess out of that country. Now Bush is hinting about the danger of Iran? Gov.Bush is like a black cloud. Everything he touches turns to sh*t. (I'm not convinced the governor has truly won any election since the governorship.) Anyway, American, Brits, and Aussies are over there in danger's way, so I said a prayer for them. Whether one believes we had an obligation to invade Iraq or not, our soldiers are there. A large number of them joined the Reserves and National Guard because of the college tuition, not expecting to be in the trenches. But there they are. They fight in our name and rightly, this day belongs to them. God Bless and keep them.
The Faeries

Artificial Bliss

2008-06-26T00:32:00.000-04:00

Thursday, June 26, 2008 12:30 AM

My brother is in from California; he came in yesterday. He'll be here for three weeks and I'm glad. His friend came in with him for ten days. I miss him the rest of the time. I didn't get up this morning till about noon and everybody was upset. My daughter had driven down from Philly and she kept calling in to me to get up, but I was just too tired. I should have; I'm sorry I didn't. Last night, my gut had hurt badly and I took the only painkiller available right then--Hydrocodone. I don't think that was why I couldn't get up though. When I awaken frequently in the morning but I'm too tired to actually get out of bed, it gets progressively more difficult. Last night, I had finally gone to bed at 2:30 and that's late for me. I usually sleep nine hours; I'm a sleeper as opposed to those who cannot fall asleep or stay asleep. My brother sleeps like our mother and doesn't. My daughter inherited that pattern and my son got mine. He sleeps soundly and often. Anyway, we brought the food to my son's house and he barbecued for us. My brother's friend bought a lot of fruit and cut it up for everyone. It was like having dessert for an appetizer. Now, I'm sleepy and a little depressed. Even the good stuff is stressful.

Flunkin, Dunckin, and Munckin, Attorneys at law

2008-06-22T00:12:00.000-04:00

On television is the Puppy News. According to the TV, nothing is wrong in the US. Maybe weather, but that has to do with nothing. War? What war? Killings and drugs show up occasionally, but I guess that's entertainment.
Another Sunday gone.Suddenly, I'm 60, and half-way done with that. I really don't mind, although I notice the years flying by. Life after the Shrub..It's more difficult. It's impossible to believe the Americans who voted for that idiot had any intelligence. People used to vote self-interest, but everyone knew he and the other republicans were serving rich people. Of course, the democrats do but to a much lesser amount. They owe average people and the republicans do not. Plus, it was obvious W was not intelligent and never succeeded at anything on his own. Of course, he stole the election--well, it was stolen for him, but some people actually voted for him. And they weren't all wealthy. Time for the artist to hit the hay, or at least the bathtub. Hi de hi.

Confused by Facebook & Anything That Isn't Immediately Obvious. Instructions? Nah!

2008-06-09T00:17:00.000-04:00

Confused by Facebook & Anything That Isn't Immediately Obvious.

Today at 12:11am | Edit Note | Delete

I'm so sorry I haven't been sending notes, answering notes and barely understanding the little flowers, pokes, and butterflies. I guess I'm missing stuff because I usually zone out watching TV--if there's anything I like--at night. I check email and stuff during the commercials. I still haven't finished fixing the links in my website or getting the new photos together of my two newest paintings.
I try to paint during the day, but it's getting harder and harder. I'm doing my water exercise class at least twice a week hoping for three times, I'll be walking one morning, and still going to Philly once a week. Now, I had to start PT too. I promised to volunteer at the Art Center and I'd kinda like to do more. I tried volunteering reading to little children, but didn't like seeing the miserable parents picking up their kids. If I could have volunteered early in the day, it would have been fine, but I'm a late bird.
I still haven't gone to get new glasses either. I will. Oh, not the canes either. I really don't have to make excuses, I just want you to know you're important to me and I haven't figured out facebook or My Space because I'm doing other stuff. And I'm really slow. I waste time. When I feed the outside kittens, I'm out there an hour playing with them or whatever. Mostly playing. I stand and look at my plants when I'm watering them or in between waterings. I read the newspapers too. I've been reading the Newark newspaper too, and it's different. The emphasis is different.
Well, tomorrow is the first walk & I've got to get moving toward the bed.
xoxo
Jaynee

Parrot. Illustration for book by Cyndi & William.

Soft-Shelled Crabs Nibbling At Our Toes

2008-06-08T00:12:00.000-04:00

Soft-Shelled Crabs Nibbling at Our Toes
Current mood: argumentative
Category: I don’t play video games Dreams and the Supernatural

That's Picnic Dancing. I gave that to charity and they raised money with it. So this is supposed to be about "the other side". Hmm. Well, they haven't been in touch lately. I talk to them every night, begging for their help with my eating. While no spirit has landed on the dining room table, I have begun to do better with my eating. Don't get me wrong. I've actually seen at least one spirit, literally been touched by them, and had them talk directly into my ear. I have wonderful lucid dreams spending time with my family too. It's important because I especially miss my cousin, who was virtually my older brother. It's the only way I can spend time with him. Anyway, I didn't mean to really write about this.
I made dinner today, which is very unusual. I made soft-shelled crabs. I have an excellent recipe given to me by my alcoholic evil sister-in-law. She's a good cook, and when she gave it to me, I didn't know what she really was. I'm kind of dull when it comes to seeing inside phony people. I'm not throwing around the word "evil" either. This is a woman who stole food money from our eighty-something year old mother in law. She did it for years and I believed my mother in law was hiding the money like my sister in law said. The truth was our mother in law was borrowing money from her neighbors to eat. This sister-in-law also, one night when she was probably drunk, threw pages and pages of racist hatred at my son's girlfriend. The girl was only sixteen and the stuff that woman threw at her was horrible. Later, the woman denied she did it, but I'd seen it on screen. The kids had wakened me because they were so upset, and I came downstairs at one in the morning to look at the crap on the computer monitor. Ugh and Feh.
Oh, well. Life is far from perfect. Actually, for most people, it's horrible. Even in America, we're just serfs with refrigerators and washing machines. We entertain ourselves and don't notice our legistlators stealing and chipping away at whatever freedom we were previously allowed. It's all bullshit, but I pray the populace doesn't elect McCain. Our nation is really hitting the skids with these guys. Nobody has to embrace Obama's policies, his philosophy, or anything. Doesn't it matter to people that our kids are getting killed in Iraq for no reason? Who cares what color Obama is? Or what Reverend Wright said? Do white people really think black people don't have grievances? Oh, well. I hope people don't even think about it and just vote against another four or eight years of the shrub.
When I look at my neighbors though, I hope they're not the typical voters. We're in trouble if that's true. When I worked, I noticed people didn't read the newspapers. They read the Daily News mostly, which was like reading the third grade newspaper with mob pictures. They made up what they didn't know. And worshipped the congressmen who kept them in jobs. Not me. I was Civil Service, but lots of those "workers" were political hacks paid out of the school district budget. Yes. That's true. Don't wonder where the book money went.
I don't know why I'm smiling in the picture. Things aren't that good, except for right here, in my house, and maybe yours. Our president is a psycho and most of our law makers have no morals and don't care about America or you. I don't care who any of them are in bed with, unless it's children or coercion. I care about this country, my family, friends, and me. That means I have to care about you too. I don't want to, but I can't have my rights if you don't have yours. Probably. Well, I hope Obama gets elected. We desperately need a semblance of sanity and the constitution in the White House and Congress. Having people who at least look different from W and his ilk will help our image and maybe get us through the doors back to diplomacy. W didn't believe in that, sorry. But that's how our nation got by and in a world so shrunken, we need it again.

its a mystery 2 me

2008-06-07T00:34:00.000-04:00

That was a commission. They exist. For real. They're usually portraits. Okay, that was the job part. I am, at this moment, breathing in Autumn's beautiful golden fur. She's waiting to get back on my lap and get my full attention and pets. This typing is very annoying to her. She's patiently waiting until I put my arms down to get back to where she likes to be. She's my neurotic kitten with runny eyes. (The vet says she's okay.) She's presently exhausted. Her eyes are closing, she can't help it. She's losing her mom's belly time to this pesky machine. She likes the television machine, which offers moving pictures and mom's belly. Two good things. This is Autumn Time, and she knows it. If I don't get to the business at hand--her little head and body waiting--she's going to investigate the interesting objects on my desk. Oh, she's given up. Poor baby. Time for reading in the bathtub anyway. She'll come sit on the edge.

Hope the Other Shoe Never Drops

2008-05-31T01:09:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is Philly again, that is, if it isn't pouring. In that case, we'll put it off, hopefully not to Sunday though. We're supposed to go to the museum down here then to see a particular show. I've been working here on the computer for a while while I watched a mediocre Linsay Lohan movie. I was dying to watch TV to zone out and I finally found that. I've had malware attacking my computer since I downloaded some program that didn't even come through. It got down to something called adzgalore which could drive a dead man crazy. Really, it wasn't that bad, just ads blasting through whenever I went to a new url. I just x'd them. but since I have a neat adblocker on here, I wanted adzgalore off. I'm hoping I did it just now. I've been running all my spy programs over and over for a couple weeks.
Earlier, I painted for a few hours. I like the new father and son in the forest. Nobody seems to see the figures, but I know they're there. I ran out of this beautiful purple and the replacement I got at Utrecht, (in Philly last week), is more red. They didn't have the purple I wanted. It looks like I need a yellow plastic paint too for the frames. Or a tealy kind of green. I figured I could mix it up. I don't have much of that kind of paint. I just started using it for frames last week. Acrylic! That's the right name.
I paint as though there's a market for my work. Most likely, I'll be storing hundreds more paintings in the garage. No surprise. I have hundreds of watercolor/pastels from the "turn of the century" in there. I hope Cousin B. is willing and able to actually convert the garage. I really love this house. I'm crazy about it. I'm planting more shrubs, moving plants around. Starting more bushes... I'm in love with this place. I feel so lucky to be in a house I adore. I know it's a privledge. It's like, for some people, life clicks. Situations lead to generally good things. I don't want to give myself any kinahorras. I'm pretty superstitious, even though I know it's spurious. Nutty, but in this case...
People are conditioned to believe if one is a professional, a real artist, then one survives by the sale of one's paintings. I don't know where that idea came from. Mostly, that kind of life went out with DaVinci. Rarely can an artist actually eat with painting profits. One would definitely starve. I figure one is a professional if he or she went to art school and paints all the time. I know art school isn't really necessary. It's a luxury. I got it and I'm grateful. I'm glad I exhibited because, even though it was mostly shit and a waste of time, having friends come was like a party, and the fact that I showed in galleries convinces people I'm the real deal. If I started now, I'd probably never bother with galleries. I did sell sometimes in them, probably more than from home, but I still hate the whole process. Well, I'm a mess dealing with that. I guess, at sixty, I give myself the senior citizen escape clause. And the ignore it clause.
Turns out that crappy shit is still on here. Motherfuckers.

Senator Kennedy & Death

2008-05-20T23:03:00.000-04:00

Senator Kennedy & Death

Senator Kennedy is dying. He's been a great defender of liberal causes. Of compassion and working people. I'm so sorry. I wished he'd had ten more years. Sad.
I'm live the fantasy that nothing will happen to me for another twenty years. I'm shocked when I feel pain in my knees. Flabbergasted when I fell and broke my front teeth. Worried when I drive, because then, I am aware of my and other drivers' failures. When I stand at the top of the steps, I'm careful. All of this stays in the back of my mind.
My cousin, who was more like my brother suddenly got sick and died about a year and a half ago. It broke my heart and I guess brought my thoughts of mortality to the surface. I asked him before he died, if he could, would he let me know he was around. I forget how long it took, but wild things happened--one picture flying off the mantelpiece filled with photos, the car filling up with smoke--twice--and more. Years ago, I'd seen the spirit of my neighbor's aunt, so every time I get incredulous, which is actually frequent, I remember Aunt Millie's spirit. I pray Jerry's spirit knocked the picture and the shoes off the shelves; raised my window shade two inches; pushed in my keyboard; and smoked in our car. I hope.

Kepping Up With All Those Blogs

2008-05-18T00:57:00.000-04:00

These programs, like facebook, plaxo, my space, plus one other that's dedicated to business...drive me nuts. Actually, each one has good things and people I care about. I just don't have much time and I want to do everything. I've been painting almost all the time. The almost happened because my friend was visiting and our Philly trip was the next day. I think I had to paint at night the next day because Harry needed me to go with him to the doctor, and then we went to the Y, to the treadmills. I take a book and read while I walk or bike. I like that because I never have enough time to read. I go to bed late, sleep late, then aim for the easel. If I can. I love vegging out watching TV at night. And I write this stuff while I watch TV.
I'm not busier than when I worked. Then, even though I worked only three days a week in an office and could draw at my desk, I couldn't paint. And I hated to be there. I did have a studio and I painted, but my output was usually less. There is no comparison. The best thing...well, there are so many best things. It's a different, and better, life, even with arthritis and invisible problems growing in my arteries. Even with bursitis driving me slightly nuts.
I'm almost finished my mandala painting and my father and son in the garden is getting done too. Oh, if anyone reads this, I need other opinions. A friend of mine told me I should charge about $1200 a painting instead of maybe $350. He says people will value the paintings more and buy them. He thinks I'm selling myself short. I think selling them at reasonable prices helps them sell. The people who buy my paintings usually couldn't afford $1200. I think his argument is naive. Opinions? I think I may have at one time, had high prices on my work, but you know, I forget.

My Moon baby.

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Painting Isn't Real Exercise, like maybe swimming

2008-05-16T23:55:00.000-04:00

My lose-weight diet has helped me gain three pounds, not what I wanted. This morning, I was disgusted and depressed just after weighing myself, but I'm feeling better now because I kept a journal (on-line) of what I ate and the calorie count. I'm expecting to lose. I hope I'm right.This has been a long haul; I've fought my weight gain for a couple of years, always giving up or forgetting. With my medical reports which I may have read wrong, (hopefully), I'm afraid of the currently mild serious problems becomeing stroke or heart attack worthy. All those bowls of ice cream and candy bars are catching up to me. I haven't lost one ounce not eating them, and I forget why I'm not. The hard candy sits in my drawer, I hope, to go stale and be thrown out.
My knee is still a problem and my other knee threatens to become one. That horrible shot stopped the pain under my kneecap but not on the left side. I stand at the easel and paint--I'm almost finished a new one!--and my feet burn. That may be my weight. I'll know only if I eventually return to a normal weight. I hope for me painting is like meditating because I never remember to meditate. My big activities are reading the paper, painting, and reading books. They're my favorites. I eat while reading and reading is the only thing that makes the treadmill bearable. I do lots of other stuff including gardening, but other than caring for my children, cats, and friends, painting is my most important activity. Life isn't right without painting in the mix.
Lately, I'm using up my sable oil painting brushes. I guess I used to paint at a much slower rate. I'm worried about spending all my very hard earned painting money on a studio gallery. I may have none left for painting supplies. Cadmiums that run $30 a tube. Art supplies were basically robbery before the price of oil shot up. I think I'm being careful cleaning the brushes, but they're deteriorating. Some of my big brushes from art school--back in 1975--are still around. I'm sure a bunch of them are from as far back as 1971. It's a shame I don't paint those huge canvases anymore using the fat brushes.
The painting I'm finishing is what I call a mandala. It's far from a normal mandala. It's one of those tight designs that I do. It's different painting every day; I think the frequency pushes freedom and experimentation. A lot of the time now, I fool around and just see what comes out. It's like coloring as a kid. It's exciting and not one quarter as stressful as painting used to be for me. It's fun with a tiny bit of worry. For me, it's nothing. I don't know why I'm saying this. It's fun. The two other paintings I'm working on are a little figurative. I'm still beginning them. I think the small one is on it's way though. That's the hard part--finding the road. Seeing where it's heading.
My friend William was bothering me yesterday about not being ambitious or feeling pushed to make money as an artist. I just want to paint. I think marketing is a job. William thinks I should put high prices on my paintings and that they'd sell faster and better that way. I have no idea if he's right, except that I haven't sold anything for more than $650, I don't think. I'm just not getting to wealthy patrons. So far, the people who've bought paintings from me are working people who wouldn't have $1200 to spend on a painting. At least, I don't think so. Pricing artwork is difficult anytime. All the time.
That's the Dot Abstract, the last painting I finished. It's about 18 x 24", oil on canvas.

Spelling and Politics

2008-05-10T23:45:00.000-04:00

Wasn't she beautiful? I thought so. I also believe that frequently African-Americans have much better color than Caucasians. Well, I like color, especially the bronzey color some people have. Beautiful.
So, with that in mind, I can say Barack Obama, is not, in my mind, a good-looking guy. He needs a lot more hair to deal with those ears and his mouth is the size of Miami. However, I don't vote according to looks or rhetoric. He does rhetoric well. I would vote for one of my cats to get away from W and his party. I do think Obama is okay. He's an academic, and the fact that he's of African heritage will get the US some currency in Africa. His personal diversity is a huge plus for America. Seeing that the Shrub bankrupted our standing, our surplus, our economy, and our army, with Obama, there is nowhere to go but up.
I suspect political aspirations motivated Obama's church membership. That church is the place to be in Chicago. I don't imagine Reverend White's sermons were usually insanely paranoid. Regardless of many white people's belief that black people have made great gains, there is tremendous inequality and reason to be angry. It seems to me that often people who are not the targets do not see the discrimination. It's not really a case of being blind, some education is needed. Dialogue.
I was going on, but my critique of American intelligence can come later.

Work Bullshit vs Real Life

2008-05-10T00:13:00.000-04:00

So what is the story with artists? How about fat people? Are we all nuts? In France, they say, "Dumb as an artist." Actually, artists can be anyway, anybody. So can fat people. I just happen to be mildly misfitted, as I suppose, are many. Perhaps I have hidden secrets years of psychotherapy did not "cure". Does psychotherapy cure anything? Or just make people feel okay about their inadequacies? I don't feel okay about mine when I wake up wanting to stay sleeping for another day or two. I have been told that is why alarm clocks exist. Who would want an alarm clock once he or she didn't have to hit the trail that day? I continue to feel as though I beat the system, although I really did retire from my (three day a week, draw at my desk) job, the normal way. I'm still sticking my tongue out laughing, "Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah!" To whom? Who cares? Who thinks about me or wishes I was there to suffer the avalanche of paper I left? I did. I couldn't help it. I couldn't concentrate. I still can hardly count, or make sensible lists. At work, I felt guilty, and wanted to get out before someone "caught" me. I never didn't do anything that would hurt anybody, but the useless paperwork wasn't getting done. It's hard to feel guilty when I know I was one of many who weren't filling out reams of paper, and the others had no excuse. I had Lupus. What a job! Truly the Great Spirit smiled on me when I transferred into there. From the time I started working in Civil Service--I won't say where--I worked for almost all crazy people. Mostly certifiable, which I should have some idea about, having a degree in Therapeutic REcreation at which I worked in a Psych hospital. It's possible I wouldn't know, but I do. First I worked with clients and when I got onto the business end of the stick, my job got better and better. I couldn't appreciate it, mostly because I hated the people, but it was good. If I'm paranoid, it has nothing to do with anyone else. My working life +could have stayed terrible, but I was given the gift of improvement. Silly, but good. I was always rebellious and anti-authority. I was tortured by my mom for it, but at the same time, I learned my lessons at home. I totally can't stand bullshit either, and business is mostly lying and bullshit. Cheating legally. I can't be serious about most things. Titles. Authority. Rules for rules sake. And breaking the rules because no one is looking. Not me. Some rules are for safety and they're not the ones to break.
My rant is done. My Autumn has fallen asleep on my desk in front of me. Time for more reading of The Glory and the Dream by Manchester. I just got A Voyage Long and Strange which is supposed to be good too. I also have Sarah Vowel. From where I sit with Autumn, at least two of those people are great historians, if anybody is listening.
Good night and God bless you.
Jaynee

Art Stuff

2008-04-28T14:53:00.000-04:00

To be an artist... can mean many things. Playing an instrument, working in illustration or commercial art, or painting whatever the angels send; they are all art. I have been very lucky to have somehow caught the joy of drawing when I was a little girl. Attending Art School was never easy, not when I was thirteen, or when I was twenty-three at the Academy. I wasn't the best; I was not able to paint the way I would have chosen. I had to work at drawing. But one thing never changed; I loved using oil paint and drawing with ink. People seem to believe those are the two most difficult types of art; but they both feel good to me and that's what counts. To pursue your heart's desire, one has to please oneself, not do what other people think looks good. The point is that the highest forms of Art--painting; music; or writing--are forms of self-expression, not what sells. And then from there, it becomes tantamount that the artist finds some way to support herself and her family.
I chose not to attempt Art as a career, and that choice paid me well although there were disadvantages. Working in "normal" jobs takes the artist out of the art community. Often artists are non-conformist as I am, and that can be hard on the psyche. Fitting in with average white folks was an impossible challenge for me. It never really worked. I wasn't living in artsy communities, and they knew I was strange. Oh, well, such is life.
Now that I live in a Delaware suburb, on my own garden, no one, except who I choose, know me well. Whatever my neighbors think about me remains their secret as I re-enter my house and close the door. Out in the sunroom, paintings are always in process. I have been painting abstracts. They have been fun, even though even abstracts are work. But I have grown from the need to represent people and scenes on the canvas. Yes, they were always serious challenges, but I think I may be done with them. Perhaps it's time to simply enjoy myself painting. I've come to sixty years; painting has always been a large part of my identity. I am finally old enough to paint whatever flows from my brush. I have railed against galleries for years and I allow myself to forego their bullshit. If I can, I'll open my studio to show my work. I cannot look for glory and accolades in the art world. That, in itself, is hard, discouraging work. One needs to live and know people in the artworld, and that means Manhattan really. I would need to sing "The Impossible Dream" day in and day out. It is too much work. I just want to paint.

2008-04-20T00:02:00.001-04:00

Passover. I'm soooooo tired. G'night.

So Serious...Dashing to somewhere..

2008-04-18T23:42:00.000-04:00

I love this goofy drawing. I know it has the guy's penis in it, so that makes it explicit, but it's supposed to be a joke. He's had a "Eureka!" moment, and ran out forgetting to put on the rest of his clothes. Oh, well. I guess you had to be there. I used to do these at work and amuse myself.
I got my pain doc's report today. Everything is wrong with my neck and my lower back isn't so hot either. My neck has serious problems though that could cripple me gradually. I'm sixty. I'm not looking to live into my eighties. Some people are healthy and maintain their independence, but I'm not trusting. I've always left the games early, worrying about what might happen if I stayed. This is no different, but I'm not ready yet. Even though my one knee is very painful, I feel otherwise okay. Able. I'm still painting up a storm. I am upset to read about all the problems I've got sitting just below my head. Ugh. I need to exercise.
Tomorrow is the Jewish Passover. I printed out twenty-seven pages of a secular humanist Hagaddah. I hope it's worth it. The old one made no sense for irreligious people.

Living to Paint (and loving it)

2008-04-06T12:35:00.006-04:00

That's The Birds. One was my daughter's Conyer and the other was one she worked with at the Philly Zoo. Birds are incredibly beautiful. So are cats and my little girl is climbing on me now. She just moved off because I had to lean forward to use the mouse, but she'll come back. She goes back and forth and I notice she's sleepy.

My tummy is big and full, certainly big enough for Autumn for sit on. I just ate, I guess, about a cup of spagetti with garlic, anchovies, and olives (with cheese). At 11:30 PM. I have a "procedure" tomorrow morning and I'm nervous, so I ate with the expectation that I wouldn't eat tomorrow. We'll see. I always eat.

I'm getting another epidural in my lower back. This time it's to deal with the pain radiating from my knee down. I kept off my feet today so I wasn't in much pain. I sat on my padded stool while I painted. I finally had to get up because my butte got numb. I like the painting I'm working on. I liked it yesterday when I'd sort of covered it in white. I'll still work on it, but it's virtually done. I hung the yellow one on the wall just to my riht. It makes me feel good. I love the texture, the yellows, golds and reds. All the colors and they're all there. Before I started the Funny Fine Art, I usually wasn't satisfied with my paintings. Especially my paintings. I got such a kick out of my funny paintings; I loved my drawings; and now, I love my paintings. They're not Rembrandt or Manet level. I don't have that kind of talent. I would use contemporary painters, but I can't tell how much talent they have. Even Alice Neel, but she was very good. Anyway, I did get to paint and that's what counts.

I also put the plastic wear, nested, into a huge plastic container. I had them in the sunroom and there is too much stuff in that room. We do a lot in there: plants; painting; relaxing; and kitty litter. It doesn't sound like much, but there are tools for each activity and it's not a large room.

I'm really tired. The weekends are busy. I hate for the weekdays to get busy again. Right now, I'm not swimming or doing Tai Chi and I love being home, painting. That's all I want to do. My body will fall apart though. My life is very easy, but, well, no but, I guess.

Life on the Farm

2008-04-06T12:35:00.005-04:00

Something different. Wasn't that a pretty picture though? That one sold through the web to a guy in Germany. Eventually, I sent it to Belgium, where he'd moved. I had to take it off the stretchers. I like the fact that nothing sexual is really shown. Just a hint, and it's so erotic. Oh, well. I see mistakes now and they would bother me if I had the painting. I'm glad I don't. I've got too many hanging around already.
I cleaned a ton of kitty litter today. I've got seven--four outside and three inside. The outside kitties like it too, and one of them seems always to be in the closed one. He's decided I'm not to be trusted because I tried twice to put flea medicine on him. I tried to close up their route to the little park also stopping the big old tomcat who was eating their food and scaring them to death. I'm hoping the inconvenience will keep him out. Let him go bother the raccoons next door.
I did a lot of physical work today and my knee swelled up and it's been hurting. I never got to paint, but I knew I shouldn't anyway. I am not used to sitting on anything while I paint. I miss painting terribly when I don't do it, but I really did have too much to do. Of course, I'm not up that long anyway. I worked on my website tonight and late this afternoon. God knows, it needed the work. I fixed the abstract page and knocked out stuff I can't keep up like New Work or My Life Through Pictures. I don't even like the Life page. I think either I, or Harry's host, knocked it off his site. It's not relevant anymore. Harry's right, I do go through phases and eventually, they're done. I'm grateful all those folks posed for me. I may be interested again sometime, but not now. They were so good about it.
I was going to write the incredible stories from my jobs, and maybe later. I guess when we work, we come across amazing people. My cousin ran into brilliant people and I came in contact with political "drones", nice people, and nuts. Some of them thought I was nuts. After all, I never followed their quaint customs. I never fit in and some people were bothered by that. I sound so snotty. I really wasn't though. It killed me to be treated like an outsider and not be trusted. When I worked out in the boondocks with Poggy Horsemanure, I think her trouble with me was that she was insecure. Like I wanted her job, or that I looked down on her because she got her job through having sex with the boss of the department. As though that's unusual. She was blonde and he liked blondes, especially those who would sleep with him. He never made a pass at me. I guess I didn't seem the type and I wasn't. So she was. So what. I put her down because she was a "company woman". Screw the clients and please the boss. Ugh. I had one supervisor who I think of as "The Cancer Woman" because she was dying of cancer. She lied to my face, knowing I knew she was lying. Cancer or not, she was disgusting. One of my bosses, Edmund Fitzgerald, was crazy, but honest. He drove me totally crazy, but I respected him. I had to finally take Xanax every time I was going to meet with him, but I still have good feelings about him. Honesty is a big deal. He was a religious guy and he stuck to his morals. I give him credit for him.
Poggy actually tried to have me arrested! after I escaped from her and Mr. Fitzgerald. I was stupid, but she was a witch. All she was missing was a cauldron. I'll talk about her more later. She ruined other people's lives. How does one do that and sleep at night. I think Edmund Fitzgerald did people in too, but not out of pure malice.
I have to stop now; I'm so tired. I don't care if Poggy recognizes herself, but I don't want strangers to stop her on the street and say they read about her. She doesn't deserve the fame, good or bad. I've prayed for her, but most of me thinks it's right for her to stew in her own hatred and misery.

Me

2008-04-06T12:35:00.004-04:00

Me My BackyardThat's my painting of my backyard. Right now, in April, it's still mostly mud, but it's beautiful in summer--not that beautiful, but lovely to someone from a rowhouse in Philly. We moved to a single house with a big yard and a little park run behind it in Delaware, from Philly, in August of '06. Except for the lack of creative artistic experimentation, I love it here. I never tried to have my work shown in the best Philly galleries, so I don't know whether they would have accepted my work. They do hang it down here, but except for my buddy's, who grew up and went to Art School in Philly too, none of the work reaches gallery level. It's too much work for me to exhibit in Philly or Wilmington. (I really SHOULD send emails to the Philly galleries. Hmm) I just can't take work in for them to see and decide. That's work! Taking paintings down, carrying them, and then hanging them back up is big-time work. They sit against walls for years. I don't hang them all either. Right now, I'm kind-of working on building a group of abstract paintings. Let me see if I can add one.Well, that didn't work. I'll try another one. Not that one either. Okay, I can't take anymore. No more pics. They're on Plaxo and I think, Facebook, and hopefully, my website at http://www.painterjayne.com/ I haven't added the last two abstracts though. Maybe today.xoxoJaynee

The Art Show

2008-04-06T12:35:00.003-04:00

Here I am down here. Almost totally exhausted. Got up "early"--just before 10:30, cleaned, painted, set up the dishwasher, and went to the Art Alliance here for the show. The opening. all the "Intelligentsia" must have been there. Almost all the work there, other than Ken's and mine, was either awful, beginner stuff, vacation photos, or badly hung. Except for Ken's wall, most of the walls were badly hung. My Celebration Circles hung next to three black and white photos the same size as the painting. The photos were artsy and bad, okay, or great family vacation photos. I felt like a nasty snob. The people looked like nice upper middle class people and the center did a great job with food and entertainment. It was done beautifully. I don't really know about the monthly art show in one big room. It had two stand out pieces, I know. They were a pair done by one woman. A wall hanging was nice too. That part was hung okay, if boring. In Philly, I don't think the bad part of the show would have stood. Somebody would have screamed.

I went. My kids came and went too and Harry. Both of my legs were killing me. I found out yesterday at my pain doctor's that I have some serious problem in my neck that is probably causing problems I attributed elsewhere. My neck hurts a lot when I try to sleep.

I'm falling asleep. Better get busy on my teeth.

Driving

2008-04-06T12:35:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow I review my neck MRI with my pain doc. I've never had one on my neck and it's been bad for about thirty years. My mom's was and so is my daughter's. Tells you something. My knee is spasming right now. I was standing and painting with gloved hands. I still have my Philly clothes on. We went today. We have been driving all the way up past Philly for one doctor and I have to find one down here. That's ridiculous. As soon as we moved down here, we saw a difference in drivers. It's not always or everybody, but it's better. But drivers are so much worse all over. I learned to drive in 1964 on a 1954 Chevy with regular steering and brakes. There was no such thing as seat belts or power steering. (People regularly went through windshields in accidents.) There just weren't as many cars on the road. My dad used to think women were lousy drivers and my aunt, another experienced driver--older than my father, born about 1902--used to yell about people getting their licenses at Pep Boys. My dad loved to drive, as did most of the family except my mother. Driving fifty MPH was fast and there weren't as many cars. We had no highways in Philly or nearby New Jersey. We drove to New York on Route 1 and down the shore on the back roads. We cruised in cars as heavy as Mack trucks. It wasn't a great time, but it was a good time for driving.xoxoJaynee

2008-04-06T12:35:00.001-04:00

Jerry

2008-04-06T12:35:00.000-04:00

A number of times, when I was asleep, I believe I visited "the other side", to a place like an auditorium where people sat staring straight ahead. I've seen my brother at least once in one of those although he was in a smaller room. I've been praying for him to be in a place he chooses, with our family, doing whatever he wants. I don't know what that place is, but it's not a happy place. Not horrible at all, but I don't like it. It feels like a lost place. So I pray for him.One night, when I'd been depressed for a day or two, he came, hugged me, and just showered me with love and compassion.Last night, he came and hugged me, needing compassion and I held him. I hope I'm not keeping him tied to earth. My heart breaks for having lost him, but I feel very close to him now regardless. I wish I knew what really goes on.xoxoJaynee

My Day

2008-04-06T12:32:00.001-04:00

Not much is doing here. I'm painting the frame on my newest finished painting. It turned out that yellow was the right color. I like the lattice stripping frames because they don't intrude on the paintings. Even though it hurts to stand for a long time, I'm still painting. I'm more forgetful because of the pain. I didn't go to Tai Chi or swimming this week because I was afraid of the pain. Both involve standing for an hour. However, I did go shopping three days in a row, and yesterday, I spent at least an hour at Penny's. I'd been looking for another quilt or coverlet for our bed. The pretty one we bought--turquoise to match the bed frame and walls--was dirty. Our cats, especially Moon, are big shedders. I wanted another quilt so I could change off and keep them clean. I wanted turquoise though and that was impossible to find. They had one online, and I probably should have stuck with that, but I finally found and bought one that's light blue-green. I can't think of the name of the color. I also bought two new sheets because ours are wearing out and they were on sale at both Penny's and Kohl's. The only store that's not nearby is Target, and Whole Foods for gourmet food. Every time I go to Philly, I'm very thankful we've moved to Delaware. Delaware is so much more livable. Anymore, I hate to be in Philly. Drivers honk if you make a turn, or pull into a parking spot because it slows them down. They honk if you don't rush into traffic the second the light turns green. And people run the red lights every time, usually long after it's turned. On city streets cars drive up to seventy miles an hour and people are surprised pedestrians are killed so often. At least once every couple of weeks, there is a hit and run of a child. I guess the adults aren't as newsworthy. A nun was run down about five months ago and no one was ever charged. Philly is changing. The nature of it is becoming meaner. xoxoJaynee

Mostly Cat Health & My Knee-Ruled Decisions

2008-04-03T12:45:00.002-04:00

Susan G's husband gave me three copies of The Enquire. I love them (till I can't stand them anymore). So I guess I'll enjoy the mags(Entertainment).
I just woke up; I have to decide whether to go swimming. I want to go to Kohl's. Dear Hubby has a "thing" about the rain and I have a "thing" about the pain in my knee. Standing for an hour in the pool is painful. I'm using my cane to walk on dry land and it helps a lot. I guess that is my decision. I haven't done the exercises. I did the shoulder exercises while I was in the shower and just done my shower. That worked; this doesn't and that sucks. I have to figure out a way. I also have been eating bad stuff, such as a pepperoni roll for dinner last night. I cannot eat it again; it tasted lovely, but my weight scares me. I found out my wonderful trail mix, instead of being 140 calories for a bag, according to the print I previously ignored, is 420, supposedly it's to be shared by three people. That's likely.
I forget what else I ate--oh, yeah--we ate in Philly the night before. No wonder. I still have the seafood salad too. It was full of crab meat, scallops, and shrimp and good. I had half Dear Hubby's dessert too. Ugh.
Harry's been feeding the kittens every morning which is good. He likes them a lot and they return it. I feed them around dinnertime. They come up on the deck often when I paint and that's a lot. Autumn was just sitting on the top of my chair cleaning my hair. The mousse offended her. I had to hold her little hand to get her claws out of my forehead. She doesn't notice I have no fur on my face. I love when she fools around with my hair, but it's not a good idea to let her lick mousse. Not the cat who eats $23 dry cat food. I bought her two kinds yesterday. The $23 one, I forget, it might be Venison. I really need to switch her to Venison or Rabbit. She still has the little sore on her lip and that's an allergy sign. I might try Paul Newman's dry food because it has no wheat. I doubt she's allergic to chicken although I do want to try Venison for her. Or Rabbit. (Ugh) I spent a very late hour last night on here looking at dry cat foods. I am going today to compare prices of the Venison stuff with the food coop.
Well that's everything. I'm feeling guilty about swimming. I do stand the whole time when I paint, pain or not. What I really should do is put my leg up and relax (without eating). Tendenitis responds to rest. I think that's REALLY it.

Little Note on Ethnic & Racial Distrust

2008-04-03T12:45:00.001-04:00

♠Not doing anything right now. Too tired to paint a frame. I think the abstract I’ve been working on is finished. I’m working on two others too. I had wanted to sell the landscape. I’d been offered money for it, but it wasn’t enough. Hopefully, later that will show up. My landscape page--at = is messed up and I guess I’ll fix it when I get off here. My website is old and I don’t update it often enough. I’ve sold work--a lot of work--from it, but what I like to do is paint and in the evening, watch movies. When I used to have a job (three days a week), I worked on that site and talked on line all the time. I guess I was starved for normal human contact. I worked in Civil Service with mostly South Philly politicians. Nuff said. I loved their spirit, but they thought I was from Pluto. After all, I’d gone to college and I was an artist, no less. I wore flip-flops during the day, my God! (My feet always hurt.) I had Lupus too and everyone knows anybody who can walk is not too sick to work like everybody else. Lupus had to be a put-on. Of course, they knew everything and there was no arguing. I still got a kick out of them. The only people who talked to me like another human being though, were my African-American colleagues. They were my favorites.
Actually, switching the subject a little, one of my co-workers passed away shortly after she retired. I’ll call her Brenida. I liked and had great respect for her. I’m somewhat psychic. Brenida kept appearing in my dreams. I was happy to see her, but something was wrong. I could see she didn’t really trust me. She was there for a purpose. When she showed me a picture of her husband, which looked like the young boy murdered down south for whistling at a white woman, I realized why she was contacting me. I called her girlfriend from work and told her Brenida was popping up in my dreams and I thought maybe Brenida wanted me to tell her she was okay. After that, Brenida never appeared again. I believe she had overwhelming dislike for people my color, and she had every right to feel that way, but I truly liked her, and I was sorry. I wanted her to be my friend and come visit. I wanted to know what Brenida thought and felt.
Thinking about Brenida, and then Obama, I believe people of my light color do not appreciate the resentment darker people feel. We don’t notice the little (and big) slights they receive. The fella I hope will be my son-in-law is of Mexican heritage. In the Southwest, he grew up feeling prejudice. One of my friends visited the other day and complained of the same weird responses sometimes. She’s of Filipino heritage (and beautiful). She thought it was her big breasts. Who knows? Surely not me. I know I got plenty of prejudice at work for being Jewish. A lot of people accepted me once they knew I didn’t fit the stereotype, but I was physically assaulted by another worker because of it. Most of the world is anti-semitic, especially with Israel being strong and fighting the Arabs. Of course, it’s not me. I think even the Israeli’s don’t know what to do, and I’m an American. Not that I don’t care about Israel. I read history. Ain’t too many countries who would take me and mine if this country gets totally crazy. You don’t think that could happen? Look at W and all he’s done and not done. One horrible strike and we’d be in the Dark Ages.
Well, that’s enough for me.
xoxo Painterjayne http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LnBhaW50ZXJqYXluZS5jb20=
7:45 PM -

2008-03-30T14:33:00.001-04:00

Just a note before I lay me down to sleep. Dizzy from Dilaudid which I took for torturous knee pain. Painted anyway. Have been. Still painting the abstracts but one little one has fish in it. Should take photos and try to get opinions. The first one could be finished.

2008-03-30T14:33:00.000-04:00

Painting like a house-afire and enjoying it. In pain most of the time from my knee. Haven't cleaned the house, or today, washed the dishes. Will do that very soon. Then, I'll go back to painting. Worked last night from about 11 to 12 or so, and during the afternoon yesterday. don't get up till about 11 or 12. I like all this. Best way for me to live my life, or so it seems. Will try Tai Chi tomorrow morning and back to swimming Tuesday. Knee hurts when I stand and walk and hurts in the water too. Went to a doctor who seemed as goofy as me, with 1970's pants. Not keen on his advice. Can't do one of the exercises at all. Wouldn't send me to "my" PT folks. Strange. I wish people had warned me first, instead of agreeing with me later. I love old fart doctors after I'm okay.
I hope people like Pogie H., and I forget the names of her cronies, read this. I should really pray for them because they're soooooooo messed up. If there's such a thing as reincarnation, they've got a number of lives in front of them. I pray for me too, because I still harbor hate for them. I can't see the humanity in them. Only anger and destruction. I just can't see it and I almost always do. Is it their guarded nature? Noncel Spore, I forgot her. She's another one in whom I cannot see humanity. I guess it's their overriding anger or righteousness. Noncel, I think, had a very tall wall up, in order to survive in her working world. I can't stand those kind of people and there are so many of them. I think of them as corporate people. Are they shut down? How do they do it? My kids are not like that, but then they're not corporate. They're both scientists (of which I am mightily proud.) Read it and weep Poggy Horseman! I'm not giving your name Poggy. And I'm not telling about how you're the mean, rotten kind of witch, not the Wiccan kind. What about your dedicated car-dealing office manager friend, Mory, or Futzie, or whatever her name was? Boy oh boy, she couldn't see past corporate policy either. And Flower, your secretary. Floozie? Fucknozey? What was her name? How do these people function? Is it their Catholic education? If anybody reads this and understands, please enlighten me. I have no idea.
Now that I've figured out funny names, I can tell my work stories! That's a joy. Poggy Horsenose. She was a pretty lady, actually.

2008-03-16T23:30:00.000-04:00

Just want to check in. No paintings done. Covered over two new ones. They sucked, big time. Enjoying painting the new one over the porch flower painting. Ah well. Big time painter.

2008-03-08T00:34:00.000-05:00

Didn't paint today. Dragged myself out of bed and made a great grilled cheese sandwich with my hot chile cheese and wonderful thickly-sliced cheese bread. I almost never cook and I love my grilled cheese sandwiches. I also redid my Abstract page on my website. Two accomplishments.

I'm missing posting paintings regularly. I take as long as it takes to paint in oils. And it usually takes a long time for me to be satisfied. I love the painting Celebration Circles. I have two more coming along that are similar. It's much prettier in person. That's not a great photo.

I'm not a bad painter. Somewhere in the middle, I would think. Of today, anyway. That's a huge blessing and I'm very grateful. The adjectives are deserved. To love anything that much is a gift and to be able to create is something special. I really do have to thank my family for encouraging me.

Knee, not the knights

2008-03-01T00:08:00.001-05:00

Oops. Drunk. I'm drinking Spiced Rum like some people drink Coke. Seems like I can put it away and enjoy it. Not so great.
Painted all day. Been painting. Got two abstracts going. One, so far, is flowers. I like the purple and glad my dear daughter suggested using more than basic colors. I was just using my favorites. Even used the Rose, which I don't much like. The purple is beautiful though. Didn't get to use Cobalt Blue but I will. My knee hurt so much, my leg hurt, but while I was painting, I didn't notice. When I sat down to look at the paintings, I was really exhausted. I ate later. Just realized I drank beer with my Pastrami, Cole Slaw, and cheese, and then Spiced Rum. I'm okay though. Luckily, I'm sleeping again, so no drugs. Nothing helps the knee except the Tens, when it's on. Can I do Tai Chi tomorrow? I'll see. Might go with my bathing suit on so I can go swimming afterward. I like being in the water because my knee doesn't hurt then. Gotta get up early so off I go.

2008-03-01T00:08:00.000-05:00

I've painted almost all my life and I enjoy it more now than ever. I'm disillusioned with galleries and that process is exhausting anyway, even if I felt good about them. Right now, I'm working on two more paintings that may relate to the Circles painting. Except for old abstracts, this promises to be a larger group of "pretty" paintings. I'm painting to please myself and I like them pretty.
I forgot to take pictures of the porch flowers painting. I entered it in a Wilmington show that's purely amateur with a big etcetera. People have talent but the show is major boring. Almost no one used red or bright colors in general. Everything was "quiet". My friend Ken Se gal, also an artist who now lives down here too, encouraged me. He comes from near where I lived in Philly and went to Tyler. So, I'll see if those folks like the paintings. He keeps saying the landscape will win a prize, but I'm not confident. We're talking about people's taste.
I worked today on my flowers painting and also on my current abstract. I like how they're coming along. I didn't like the abstract and couldn't figure out what to do with it, and started "fixing" it today. I also went swimming. My knee hurt me so badly every time I bent it, I just had to do something where it wouldn't hurt. I enjoyed being in the water. A lot. I hoped that when I got home I'd have the energy to paint, and luckily, I did.
I think my daughter had a good idea about using colors other than primary ones. Those are my favorites, but variety is kind of neat. I used Naples and Yellow Ochre, in addition to that mud red that takes forever to dry and "spreads". I've been using Viridian again too. I'd like to find a way to use a rose red if I could. I generally don't like it. I'm crazy about Ultramarine and Thalo Blues. Maybe I should look for my Cobalt Blue. I may not even have any. Sometimes I don't use color for so long, the tube gets hard. I poke them in the side or the top with a toothpick and paint from that. It's messy, but I'm messy.
Being able to work in the Arts is truly a gift from God. I dream about singing and dancing, but I love, adore, cherish, painting. I feel blessed.
I realize I'm somewhat of an atheist, believing in the highest level of spirit energy is God or Gods. Maybe that's not an atheist, because I believe in angels and the whole magilla. Last night, I had another dream of the other side. I think "the other side" is different from what I see, but whatever it is, that part of existence is not horrible. I would doubt, but then I remember Jerry's flying photos and the rest. Plus Aunt Millie--her spirit. In the dream, I looked into a mirror and saw spirits. Of course, I wanted to see Jerry, and was reassured I would eventually. I had a chance to dance on air, and looked at a huge swimming poor where a couple of women were doing the Dead man's Float. I realized finally they weren't coming up for air and tried to give one of the women a tap, saying something like, "You go, girl!" I value those little visits. I didn't see anyone I knew, but I learned. And I couldn't wait to go swimming!

2008-02-19T00:32:00.002-05:00

Just taking a break. Hammering and sawing. Done that.

Philadelphia

2008-02-19T00:32:00.001-05:00

Getting ready to relax and then go to sleep. Been having trouble lately falling asleep. Wasn't feeling good today. Was in Philly. Can't stand Philly anymore. It looks shabby and the driving is more hazardous than here. My old neighborhood has hardly any of the same stores and lots of empty storefronts. I like the new mayor and I hope he can stem the violence and the bleed of taxpayers running away. But I don't like Pennsylvania either. I don't want to see the corruption here; it's the same all over, but I worked too close to it in Philly. I knew then, even if nothing illegal had occurred, it looked suspicious having so many children of supervisors there, and moreover, quickly climbing the ladder to administration. I can't believe there was no help given, at least .

I was never a good employee though. I always did a good job and was never, ever complimented, not that I expected that. I was open and honest and that's stupid in business. I am still anti-authoritarian, and I suspect, a socialist. What can you do? I was raised that way. This is probably the point where I say how awful the people were I worked with. I was never consoled by the good ones, so yeah, I basically loathed them. And before I hated them, I tried to see the good in them. Everyone has some decency and I found theirs, but they treated me like shit anyway; I didn't sufficiently conform, so I guess I was scary. However, I didn't know the codes to fit in no how, no way. Also, one thing I am not mentioning was I witnessed, experienced, the murderous lying rage that will kill an innocent person--me--for an insult. I had a few witches go after me. They would have loved to ground me into the dust regardless if it meant their lying, cheating, perjury, whatever. After that, I would never completely trust the Justice system. Those people indulge their personal anger and compromise other people's lives. They ruin whole families for little hurts of their pride. It's really sick. Truly horrible. We rarely hack people, especially children, to death, but we consign them to unspeakable horrors for the rest of their natural, or unnatural, lives.

Well, it's time for relaxing. Shame on you, Elizabeth H. and the rest of you bottom dwellers. I pray you someday realize the error of your ways and bring some joy and peace to other people.

Goodbye Outlook Email & Here Are The Paintings

2008-02-19T00:32:00.000-05:00

My Outlook email won't send. This has really knocked me for a loop. I've spent about four days either trying to fix it with comcast, myself, or with Brian. Nothing has worked. I'm uncomfortable and having problems with the other emails for Harry's column and just living. Everything on here is harder.

I've started back at the pool. The first thing I did was lose my goggles. I can't swim without them. That hurt. The pool was packed too. I've gained back all the weight I lost and I'm trying my best to knock it down again. Here are my two latest paintings.

My Day

2008-01-20T23:12:00.000-05:00

Just saying "Hi". My tooth has a big crack in it and I keep sticking my tongue inside. Isn't that what we do? The tooth is in the back, so it's not obvious to anybody but me. And what else is going on? The children just left; they took Nancy with them. I picked her up Thursday and she stayed. Harry made lovely dinners. He's making presentations. I got to paint this afternoon while he was cooking. I'm working on my landscape of the backyard. I guess I should have used the backyard photo.

I think there is a lot going on; I just can't remember. Gotta go take medicine for my jaw pain.

Oh, the big news is Tigger is getting used to my touching him. He's tolerating it for as long as he can. Then he moves away. He lets me kind of grab his tail when he rubs against me when I'm getting their food ready. I think he's Keke's brother, either from the same litter with a different father, or a previous litter. More likely the same. Tigger is always rubbing against Keke. Sometimes, Keke will lick him. They're very affectionate to each other. Keke is the original lovebug anyway.

I go out to the garage to feed and be with them at least twice a day no matter what the weather is and right now, it's freezing. They have that big dog house and the cabinet I set up for them. I think Keke uses the cabinet. I can tell because the baby shoes that were in there were thrown out. I'm expecting eventually they'll come inside the house. I can't imagine them living in the garage for their whole lives. They go outside in general and I can see they have a good time. Usually, Tigger follows Keke. I think they hang around Helga's backyard and hunt the birds in there. I'm glad they're not bringing any wildlife home. They're not hungry, so maybe they're just pretending. They love their combination Meow Mix and Friskies.

And I'm happy painting.

Just Talkin

2007-12-29T23:00:00.002-05:00

Just a word or two. Doing little psychic readings that seem to be accurate. Makes me pleased. Trying to write a note more frequently in here. Picked up on the My Face thing that a woman I know started for me. Have three pages to put up on my website. Working a little on fixing the links. They got messed up when my page was summarily shut down at tripod. This is such a narrow-minded nation. What would it have been like to have grown up in a liberal country? I would have been more free and probably less rebellious. Maybe.

I'm burning up with anger now. No real reason. Should be painting. I'm happy when I paint. Tomorrow. Cleaned today. Company tomorrow and Sunday. Family room especially gets sloppy. Got the garden cleared of all the crap that falls from trees. Now, the gate will open to the little run behind us. To have trees... A gift. So grateful.

Hope scene of tanks possibly on American soil does not come true. Jerry showed me but he could be meaning something other than what I thought he meant. Finally, I'm so happy with my life and my surroundings. My children are both grown and good people. This is my time to enjoy, if I can, above the arthritis and exercise. I sure as hell don't want to see this country attacked again. That shrub can't get out of the White House fast enough. I gotta think Americans are generally ignorant. How could any middle, working class, or poor person dream that shrub could or would do anything that would help him or her. I could see wanting him as a fun neighbor, but the guy hasn't shown an ounce of brains before or after he stole the first election. Now we have a totally polarized nation and legislature. Great. If we're mostly a middle class nation, why do we have Republicans running things? They give the money and perks to the rich. Oh yeah, they hate African-Americans and people who hail from south of the border. I forgot. They throw black people in jail and send people of color if possible, to their previous country if possible. And white people think this is normal. Not all white people, no. I figure it will take at least a few hundred more years for real color blindness. But there will still be craziness. And poor people.

I think of the murdering--slaughtering--in Kenya, Congo, and Darfur and realize we can't get it together in even one city. How can we help them when we don't know how to help ourselves?

I pray to be free of hate and anger. I know it's not that easy. So I ask to learn, to see why, and how I am. If I'm still a mess after all that counseling, God knows how other people are. I can see, most people are flying through life, not looking at themselves or what they're doing. It's all a rush, I know. We're too busy. I just didn't have that luxury.

Oh, I've been warned not to pour my heart out on here. I've made enemies in my life. And my sacred message to them is, "Fuck you and the fucking horse you came in on." I'm very cooled out.

Not Much Help Needed

2007-12-29T23:00:00.001-05:00

The cane looks awful, but, for a cane, I think it looks good. I don't have any new artwork to put up there. I'm back working in oils again and each painting takes a month, or months. The two I'm working on now are from the summer. I started them then. (That reminds me; I still didn't pick up my work from that gallery where I backed out of the show. I should never let my work out because I am not timely picking it up.) Anyway, I'm painting again after my shoulder surgery so I'm happy.
Actually, I'm not happy. I'm not unhappy either. I'm a little annoyed. I'm annoyed at me for leaving my paintings at that gallery. What an idiot! Not the guy, me! I had a Reiki session today. It was my birthday present from our daughter. The lady was great, but I don't have faith in Reiki per se. However, the woman is more like a shaman. She's psychic and perceptive. She picked up Jerry's personality and that he is around me. I was very glad to get that validation. I didn't need it, but to hear felt good. She also picked up on my aunt's ring that I wear and the love that had gone into the ring. I know my aunt is pleased that I wear it. I redid my other aunt's ring, etc. I told her how much I love jewelry and that's the truth. I don't buy expensive stuff. Just copies, but I enjoy them so much. I bought myself a silver watch for my sixtieth birthday just now. I'm waiting for it to have an extra piece added. Guaranteed I'll enjoy it. I'm just very visual and into decoration. My earrings, of which I have many, are BIG. That's it for big. I bite my nails and pick at my cuticles, so my rings are conservative, but I love them too. I wear bracelets but no necklaces, except rarely. I have a couple of things I inherited. I bought two pieces of technibond too. That's it. Kaput. I just have to keep buying clothes though because I've gotten so fat. And now, my feet hurt all the time. That's one of the body parts that hurt. My knees are now storming, cracking, and failing occasionally. One is. I am having a good time though.
I still love being retired, except that no one is ever really retired if you take care of yourself. Jerry didn't, but he knew what he was doing. I hate being in pain, so I'll be back at the pool and on the machines. I hate the idea, let alone doing it. I finally started volunteering to read to itty bitties at one of the day care centers. The program is run by a non-profit agency. I enjoyed my first day tremendously. I wish I had grandchildren, but I don't. I'm lucky to have good kids.
My daughter and her boyfriend are coming down tomorrow, Sunday. Every time he comes down, he fixes something for us. He's a godsend and a lovely guy besides being handsome.
Well, time for my bath and graphic novels. I LOVE them. I love reading and these are so much fun and I'm learning about another way of looking at life too. With no effort. I wish I could lose weight with no effort. I wish I could do what I want one hundred per cent of the time too.

Christmas Miracle

2007-12-29T23:00:00.000-05:00

Autumn is coming onto and leaving my lap, so this has to be short. The two kittens above are Tigger, and KeKe. Keke is the little grey, black and white one. They live in my outside studio that is actually, still a garage. They were living under a tree, so my garage with regular meals and kitty litter, is pretty comfortable. There is a big dog house in there for them, but I don't think they're using it. The reason I wanted to write today wasn't because of the cats, although I adore them. Keke is a lapcat and a little bundle of affection. It's hard not to adore them.
However, today's story is about a Christmas miracle. Christmas morning a friend online wished me a Christmas miracle. We had a lovely day visiting our cousins in southern Delaware and we were driving home. Suddenly, I became aware of cigarette smoke gagging me. I told Harry and he said he smelled it too, but didn't want to mention it. Then we realized it was Jerry, my beloved cousin who passed away last January. This was the second time he showed up by manifesting smoke in the car. Harry and I thanked him and I kept talking to him all night. Neither of us complained about the smoke because we knew it was Jerry and the smoke wasn't going to hurt us. (Jerry smoked like a chimney in winter.)
Harry and I are both amazed, and I'm thrilled, that Jerry can do something like that. He's thrown framed photos, shoes, upped the shade in my room two inches, and stuff like that. I wasn't sure he did all those things, but now I am.
My son gave me a hundred reasons why the smoke was a natural occurrance, but it wasn't real smoke. I have driven since 1964 on all kinds of roads and I have never had this happen. Smoke comes in only if the car is next to someone puffing away. And you can tell the difference between real smoke and Jerry's. I think my son is wrong. He's a scientist though, and I wanted to hear the rational reasons for our experience. Since the rational reasons didn't make sense, I'll go on believing this was a kind of miracle. I'm Jewish, and having a Christmas miracle is a little weird, but I'll be happy to accept it. I don't mind celebrating Jesus' birthday anyway. He was a Jewish rabbi. I forget if Jews think of him as having been a prophet. Maybe. Anyway, not bad for a tiny race. Jesus, Solomon,Einstein, Disraeli, Freud, Marx. Forgot Moses. Jesus is the most famous. I think he'd be so disappointed by the horrible acts committed in his name. And how people often don't, no matter how pious they appear, live by his words.

Keke Joins the Family

2007-11-12T00:08:00.000-05:00

Probably, I'm home too much now. I tripped Saturday night and fell into a wall--on my injured shoulder. Since then, I've been sleeping in Harry's lazy-boy chair. I'm doing better today, but I'll still sleep there. The two pillows and cold thing around my neck in addition to the little pillow for my neck and the big one for my knees, make sleeping in my bed a logistics problem.

Really, I don't want to go anywhere or do anything, especially physical therapy or any kind of exercise. I want to eat ice cream and cookies all day with my meals. And watch Jerry Springer on television. No feeding the outside cats, or changing the kitty litter for my two little furbabies who don't set foot outside. I thought I was finally free, then I realized I had to exercise at least four times a week so I could pick my legs up high enough to get onto the Senior Citizen's bus. I have to practice standing on my toes and walking like a little kid playing so I build up my balance. Falling into walls and holes for plants isn't really acceptable. It's just a matter of time until I break a bone. It's no surprise to me that my rotator cuff tear was immense. It's the kind that doesn't heal easily because it was so big. I don't think the tear bothered me. It was the bursitis which can't be addressed by surgery. This was a waste of time and energy. I was wrong to go through with it. There is wisdom in "Let sleeping dogs lie."

Autumn is circling my chair. Here she is. She is now on my lap, leaning over the keyboard. The new little kitten is so psychic, he's made me notice again Autumn's and Moon's requests. I'm their adopted mom or their servant. With cats, one never knows.

The picture above is Keke. He's our new kitten. Our daughter found him and another kitten under a tree across from her house in Philly. So now they live here in the garage. They're feral cats, so they wouldn't really want to live inside. I don't think any cats want that, except maybe Autumn. I think Keke would like to live inside but roam around outside. I'll see what happens down the road. Right now, Harry is stuck feeding them because my arm is not cooperating. He's doing everything because I really can't. I can hardly dress myself now; he helps.

My Life

2007-10-27T22:49:00.000-04:00

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

2007-10-14T22:42:00.000-04:00

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

2007-10-06T15:09:00.000-04:00

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.

Painterjayne Cane? Art Garage?

2007-09-23T15:54:00.000-04:00

My Gorgeous Cane that took three months to paint, but it was worth it. I'm planning to make them for sale now.

This is probably my last post before my shoulder surgery Tuesday. Tomorrow, we go to Philly from the early morning and won't get back till late at night. The surgery is Tuesday and I have to be there at seven in the morning. I'm tired now. Jerry's--bless his immortal soul, kiss kiss--friend is here today to pick up concert shirts and tickets Jerry left him. For years, they went together to all the heavy metal concerts in the Delaware Valley. Russell, the friend, helped me with the garage. I was able to throw away a trash can full. Brian picked up the treadmill yesterday and soon he'll get all the stuff we stored for him while he was in an apartment. Then I'll see more boxes and get rid of what is in them. With Russell, and yesterday, with our daughter's boyfriend, I figured out the way to use the garage. I am so pleased and excited. Most of my life, since I'm almost sixty, I have wanted my own gallery. Maybe I'll call it Garaje or Cochera Painterjayne. Those are garage in Spanish. Or Cochera de Painterjayne. Nah. Garaje Painterjayne sounds better. Or Garaje Atelier. Garage Studio. There are a lot of Hispanic people here though, and I'm not. I don't want to give the impression I am. People will come in looking for paintings of bullfighters on black velvet. Tableaux--whew and wow! I do like, no, I love the sound of French. I have to mention it's a garage. I like Art Garage too. That would allow me to show other people's work too. That would be fun.

I put my cane up on here as the picture today. I'm planning to paint and sell them. A lot of people like them and most of us are fat with knees that are buckling under avoirdupois. (Isn't that a marvelous word for fat hanging down!?) I know it's embarassing, but I'm fat so I feel entitled to tactlessness. Honestly, most people who consider themselves fat don't look bad to me. If I spent big bucks for clothes, I could look good too. Anyway, it is true that being overweight is hard on our joints. So is Lupus, balance problems, Arthritis, etc. So I'm hoping I can provide a cane that's an abstract painting for about $75. I have to see how much everything costs.

Cancelling the Exhibit..

2007-09-21T23:29:00.000-04:00

I'm not feeling well at all right now. I've taken medicine for migraines but it hasn't worked completely. Today, I cancelled my exhibit scheduled to start next week. The gallery owner is a young kid who has been driving me nuts. First, he wanted to varnish three ancient paintings for $50 each and I said "No". I think he was angry about that which appeared to be reflected in his very terse press release about the show. Not only was it pretty empty, but it identified me as a Delaware native. Then, for his opinion, I showed him a photo of my newest painting and the price for which I was selling it. He wanted one-third of the price and threatened me. Although we hadn't discussed it, he thought he was my Delaware representative. My feeling was he was just showing the work we'd agreed on for the month of October. I think I was at fault for asking if he would permit me to show the painting already sold before the show. Normally, galleries wouldn't expect a cut of a painting's sale sold before an exhibit. In fact, I never heard of that. The fellow appeared to believe I desperately wanted gallery representation and would go along with anything he said. However, that idea is far from my personal feelings. I can't stand galleries and all their snobbery and total bullshit. My dream has always been to show my own paintings on my own. Period. The only reason I agreed to show in his gallery was that he asked and seemed low-key. I don't approach galleries anymore and I never sent any money for anybody to review my slides for a show.

I'm thin-skinned about my paintings. Each one is a piece of my heart. If I could handle rejection of my work, I probably would have done better financially. It's probably my downfall. But, then again, I'm blessed to be able to paint and I'm eternally grateful. I don't by any means think I'm the best or anything in that realm; I'm just grateful to be able to pick up a paint brush or use my fingers to apply paint to a canvas, eventually designing something I'm proud of at least for a minute.

Joy of Children and Frustration of Doctors

2007-08-30T22:55:00.000-04:00

Today was a lazy day; I didn't have to be anywhere or do much of anything. Harry watered the plants and I emptied the kitty litter--one day early. I cleaned the wood floors on the first floor and the steps. That's all of it. Yesterday, I told my little neighbor friends if I didn't answer my front door to come around the back, to the sunroom. Today, two of them did; they told me all about school. I think they're absolutely great and having six little girl neighbors is the bestest ever. I'm sending in an application to read aloud to itty bitties at a daycare center. I saw an ad in the Sunday paper and called. I offered to volunteer for hospice patients but they didn't seem to want to work around my time schedule and the only one they called me for was in Wilmington and she had to be convinced. No thanks. I had told them at first, I didn't want to go out of Newark--my town. Oh, well, what could be better than reading to children? Other than hanging out with my kids, painting or reading?

I'm pretty conventional in what I like, progressive(?) in my politics and such, and totally nuts about animals. I love staying up late forever reacting to the strictures of childhood. And I revel in Jerry's dictum of all I need to do is be.

Next week my being will be getting shots in my back to perhaps kill the pain. After packing and unpacking to move here, I had back pain every day and it only got worse. I'm glad there is such a thing as pain specialists who have tricks to deal with pain. My right shoulder became excruciatingly painful a few months ago. Gradually it improved, and when I got shots in it, the pain was almost gone. Except it didn't all go. The ortho said my rota tor cuff tear was/is the problem and I'm having surgery on that Sept. 25. I'm nervous about the pain afterward and looking forward to sitting around watching TV. I could work it out to do that some days, but I don't. Not getting my shoulder wet sounds like a real nasty, uncomfortable, dirty challenge. I don't know if the surgery is worth it. I'm just careening toward it blindly. Not good.

Yesterday, a different doctor basically told me I was a nut case, although maybe he didn't mean that. When he said my shortness of breath and chest pain was not caused by my heart, that was good, but then when I asked him, he said reflux couldn't cause it either. He was wrong. I knew before reflux could have been the problem, and last night, I researched it, and I was right. Jerk! Arrogant piss-ant, overpriced, dressed up special bean. Boy, do I resent doctors! Medical school confers sainthood, left hand of God hood on smartass know-it-all jerks. Having a chronic disease confers the knowledge of doctors' lack of knowledge on the poor suffering patient.

LUPUS ACOR LIST OWNERS SHOW RUDE BEHAVIOR!

2007-08-19T15:11:00.000-04:00

Last month, I thought my email program was infected. Suddenly, I didn't see my emails on my lupus online support group. I examined every inch of Outlook but couldn't find any problems and I continued sending my questions and answers in. After a while, I realized my emails just weren't being printed so I contacted the "owners" who never answered. I'll never know if I offended them or sent them an email that was meant for one of my friends or what. I had been involved with that group for about five years and I was a major supporter. I'm not a professional trained writer, but I didn't ramble, and I'm intelligent and educated. I research everything connected with my lupus. I was one of the smart, informed people in that group. And they threw me out with no explanation. I think their behavior was rude and callous. How do you do that to someone who relies on your support who you supposedly cared about? Knowing how lupus is triggered by stress, how can people allow themselves to hurt other people they know also suffer from lupus? Now, I know why other members just disappeared. Maybe my asking where those people got to bothered those "owners".

On a regular basis, those "owners" sent in a list of rules and I think everyone, including me, tried to honor the "owners" requests. But it wasn't enough. I believe, just like real-life, when we break off a friendship, it behooves us to explain why if we are asked. It is hard to do that, I know, but we owe it if another person has shared a friendship with us. Also, living in God's good grace, we are required to be compassionate. Every other human being has mountains to climb, battles to fight. Whatever those women who ran the group objected to in my email, it would have been appropriate to say what it was.

I am always shocked by the coldness of some other people's words. They don't try to be gentle. Even though they are not angry, their words are cutting. Why am I not that way? Perhaps I think less of myself, or maybe I don't see myself as an authority on anything. I'm not. No one is faultless though. I may be more polite than most, but in the end, I can't throw stones either. I'm angry at those "owners", but they too have sorrow. Fuck it! I hope their list folds!

Need Dog

2007-08-15T22:39:00.000-04:00

Max, the Yellow Lab puppy who lives across the street, came in tonight. My neighbor said it was okay, and he's been urging me to take Max during the day. I love having a dog around me, so I'm thrilled. Bubba, the twelve year old black Lab who's a little demented came too. He couldn't stand to be left behind. But Bubba wouldn't come into my house and when the dog biscuits ran out, Bubba walked across the street and back into his own house. Max was perfectly happy to be in my house. Moon, my long-haired Maine Coon, who knows about dogs, was interested in Max. Max licked Moon's face and then kept his distance. I watered the garden and cut off dead limbs from the trees and Max stayed right by my side, except when anyone walked by. Then, he was off ready to jump up and welcome anybody to his life. He's too big now to be jumping on little children. I don't know what to do about that. I don't have a fence in my front garden. Maybe I can't take Max till I'm in the back.
Having a dog around lightens my heart. Why? It means so much to me. Cats too. I need both. I'm really nuts.