While I Was Going Through My Pictures…

A very young Ava

Feline Ava

I wish I had put a beer in Ava’s hand.  This is just the ultimate look-alike pics.

Woody Allen on sex

What can I say?  I live alone.

goth hippie

One of my favorite facebook steals.  I have never been Goth, but I have been in the hippie,  gypsy,  suit,  jogging-pants mom, Southwest/Spanish modes… just to name a few.   It was always a surprise –even to me– (and still is) what kind of season of life or flavor of life I would be in from year to year.  So I keep all my costumes wearing apparel just in case.  One never knows when the big jingle jewelry or the long, flowing skirts will be needed.

My favorite quote of all time.

The days that are tough; the weeks that are looooong; the years that are distraught, never give up.  Over and over again I am given that message… and I will give it over and over again.

Get your pictures out and take a slow stroll through them.

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Emma, the new kitten

Emma, with her new toy

The grandgirls got a new kitten… Emma.  They brought Emma over to visit her Gigi, so we had some quality jump and catch time.

Emma trying to figure out how to catch her new toy.

Emma’s toy is a straw that has a fold-out end (apple) stuck in the end of a wooden spoon. She was enthralled.

“I’ll get you, my pretty!”

READY! AIM!

Emma, had a fine time playing with her toy:  jumping, scratching, twisting, and finally:

“I’m bad! I’m bad!”

Emma update:  The neighbor down the street… a farm girl, I might add… came by and played with Emma.

I mean Garfield.

Summer Fun

Keely, Ava, and Kate

Last year at this time the pool was empty awaiting the paint that never came, the paint I sent the (unbeknownst to me) evil son (I thought it was the good son) to pick up and deliver back home to begin the morning painting.  How that evil son can take over the good son’s body and mind like that (never made it home with the paint) (only came home after many cell phone calls) has boggled my own mind for many years now.  The hope is that someday the good son will be the constant victor!!

This year the pool has been opened since May and we have so been enjoying it.  The girls are already brown as biscuits.  And still skinnydipping!!  Although Kate has finally seen the need to wear her suit… and even clothing!  I am very proud of her.

happy swimmers:  Kate, Keely, Ava

P. S.  Since this year has thrown me of course just a tad, I am late getting my birthday gnome out to his rightful owner.  Last year’s gnome was such fun, I am going to do one every year.  Give one away that is so you can start your own birthday gnome fun.  I am going to pick a name out of the people who follow my blog (actually I have a web site that does that for me–I just add the names–they pick) and either mail it to you (if you will send me your address) or drop it by your house.

Nothing like a little summer fun!

happy-birthday-to-me on Father’s Day

Dad, a young man

This picture would have been taken sometime in the 1940’s, perhaps around 1944.  I don’t know if it would have been before or after the War.  Dad was born in May of 1924 in a farm house in Southern Illinois, and he looks really young here, so I thought he might be about 20.  Now, that he’s gone, I wish I had done a better job of getting these pictures out and talking to him about them.

Why do we think we have an infinity of time?

Dad, not quite a year old

This picture was taken February 27, 1925.  Granny, or somebody, had written the day on the back, so the year had to be 1925.  He already has those full lips!

I miss my dad.  I miss asking him questions like “How old were you in this picture?”  I miss taking him for drives down the old roads where he grew into a man; waving at one; stopping to chat with another; reminiscing about life as he knew it then.  I miss watching old Westerns with him; the same one sometimes over and over.

Dad had diabetes.  His eye sight was bad; his heart was at 15% working capacity; he had lost one leg and was trying to save the other; he died from the gallstones.  After heart surgery and the surgery to take his leg off above the knee, he didn’t want anymore surgery.

He was 74.

As he lay in the hospital bed with his eyes closed, Djuana, one of his nurses, and I were talking.  We thought he was asleep, and we were talking quietly.  She said he needed surgery to remove the stones.  And I said that I didn’t think he would have another surgery.  Right then he very loudly and very firmly said, “No surgery.”  We both about jumped out of our skin!

Dad never complained about his sugar; his comas; his leg off; his heart; losing the ability to even drive the golf cart around; nothing.  He was sometimes sad, but never complained about that either.  I could tell he was low in the way he hung his head or the way he greeted me when I came in.

It was a pleasure to care for him.

My brother and sister and I  took turns a week at a time staying with Dad the summer he died.  Every morning he wanted biscuits and gravy from our little quick market in town.  I always got one order, and we shared them.  On an early morning of a week my brother was staying, he woke up to find Dad sitting in his wheelchair in Ben’s bedroom doorway.  As soon as Ben opened his eyes and looked at Dad, Dad said, “You want some biscuits and gravy?”  He had probably been up a long, long time and was very glad to have someone else up too.  Ben always got two orders.  Dad told him I starved him, made him share one.

There are so many good stories from that time.

As Dad and I sat together one night, he was staring off as though he were thinking, and I asked him about it.  He and his wife had separated, and I was wondering if he was sad about her being gone.  He said, “I was just thinking how happy I am; you kids here.”

And that makes me happy.  And it’s my birthday.  So happy birthday to me on Father’s Day.

Just what I’ve been thinking lately, but this says it so much better than I ever could.

Whenquiet's Blog

Often, God sends us angels. During this recording, the angel was the pianist, Martin Eigenmann. Because of his encouragement, I recorded one of my belated Grandmother’s favorite songs, and heard her voice when we listened to the playback. The second angel is the person who recently uploaded this video to youtube. Merci beaucoup! Yes, I am ready to begin singing again. Thank you!!

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Thoughts of an addict

Don’t tell me what I’ve done.

You don’t know how I feel.

What am I even capable of?

I will steal, but will I kill?

That test has not presented itself

And for this I do not know

But I warn you, anyone this concerns,

Don’t try me; through me anger flows.

I do what I say;

I say what I mean.

I inherited crazy;

It’s all in my genes.

So smile and laugh with me!

I’m broken inside

Twisted and tied.

I see your face

Torturing myself.

I get lost in the pain

Forgetting what is real.

My thoughts turn to hate

My memory fades

Yet I still feel you.

All the hurt I endure

I am cold and insecure.

I feel warm when I’m with you.

Please save me.

Just take it all away.

I don’t wanna stay

Here anymore.