Mind Trips

2010-04-06T15:30:00.002-04:00

In Loving Memory

Pam Antonivich

8/10/1942- 4/4/2010

"I have ALS, it does not have me

Art does."

-Pam 2009-

She was a very brave woman

Who will be greatly missed

And was loved by many

Still Standing

2009-03-18T11:37:00.002-04:00

Thanks everyone for stopping by, it's so good to hear from you all, I miss you. I'm going to get back to blogging soon with the help of my friend and caregiver, Barbara I. I have healed well and am back on my game, looking forward to spring with much anticipation.

I am hoping to get to everyones blog one of these days but I have to choose where to expend my energy each day. Sometimes leaving comments takes more than I have so I just read. Much has happened and I expect to have the time and energy to catch up.

To those of you who have asked, Idgy is absolutely fantastic! She is the funniest cat I've ever owned and she keeps Barbara and me in stitches. I plan to post pictures and stories when we get back to blogging.

Love and peace to everyone,

Pam and Barbara I

Still Standing

2008-12-12T09:10:00.002-05:00

Hi everyone, just wanted to take the time to thank you all for stopping by my blog to check up on me and to thank you for your e-mails . I have been very ill with a devastating case of the shingles and am just beginning to regain my strength. Lucky me, I couldn't get a normal case, no, I had to get them on the inside. They manifested themselves in my bladder and bowel. Yuck!

Thanks to the very good care of my Barbara I, Barbara II, my husband and the home care nurses, I am on the mend after 3 months of HELL. I am feeling so much better, and just in time for the holiday season.

I hope to get back to blogging, with the help of my angel, Barb I, after the new year. In the meantime, may I wish you all a very Merry Christmas.

May your days be filled

With peace and contentment

And may you embrace each day

With joy!

Love and peace to all

Pam

What a Time We Had!

2008-08-28T11:26:00.008-04:00

The gals, from left to right. Lolly, Barb two and Barb one.

I finally made it back to the ocean after a three-year absence thanks to the efforts of my angel and friend, Barb one, my new friend and caregiver, Barb two and my dear and wonderful friend, Lolly. We went to Ogunquit Maine, stayed at a lovely old hotel in Perkins Cove, dined in three of the areas most terrific restaurants, did a little shopping in the local artisan shops and even got to walk on the beach. And laugh, oh how we laughed!

I discovered that I was not embarrassed at having to be fed out in public (I was a little worried about that one) but my friends made it all seem very natural so I was quite relaxed and just went with the flow. And I didn't feel too terribly self-conscious when tourists stared at me as I was efficiently maneuvered in and out of the van. (Bless all the people responsible for my awesome van, by the way, without it; none of this would have ever been possible!) My lungs even cooperated and remained strong enough for me to be out of the hotel and away from breathing assistance for long stretches of time. I think it was all that beautiful sea air!

The glow from our trip remains with me and my memories are as bright and shining as the sea glass I now wear around my neck. I am, most assuredly, a very happy woman.

Looking To the Future

2008-08-07T14:51:00.003-04:00

This past June marked the end of my fourth year with ALS and I am celebrating. Celebrating because I am beating the odds as I move into my fifth year. I am celebrating because this weekend is my 66th birthday and I am still alive, still squeezing everything that I possibly can out of each day. I am celebrating the joy of family and as I watch my grandchildren grow and blossom I am happy that they never shy away from my illness but continue to share their lives with me. I am celebrating because my husband, who has had a very hard time adjusting and whose pain had started to turn to anger, has started to smile and laugh with me once again.

So much has happened these past four years. Some old friends, intimidated by my illness, have disappeared from my life. But more have stood by me and I have made some wonderful new friends. My ex-husband stays in touch and helps when he can, which is a long way from where we were and a longer way from where he was. And Although I have had to give up my art as I knew it, I have learned new ways to express myself on the computer through art, poetry and commentary. I have learned that I can make friends in cyberspace, very good friends, and that they help to keep me strong, too.

On August 18 my best friend Lolly, my two caregivers (Barbara I, my Guardian Angel and a dear friend and Barbara II, a new friend) are taking me to the Maine coast for three days so that I may enjoy the ocean. We are going to rent a beach wheelchair and walk the shoreline, eat lobster, play cards and laugh in the face of adversity. We will be celebrating!

P.S. we are having a very wet and humid summer here in New England and it makes it hard for me to talk into my Dragon software. I know I have mentioned this before, but the heavy air is relentless and I want you all to know that I will get back to commenting and blogging as soon as we have some relief. I miss you and want to thank you for your continued comments to my infrequent posts in spite of my absence.

ALS-Despair and Hope

2008-07-24T12:06:00.003-04:00

The Nightmare

The Dream

Grandchildren Updated

2008-07-13T09:04:00.008-04:00

Once again it's time to brag about my incredible grandchildren. They never cease to amaze me with their talents and capabilities, their bright intelligence and their warm compassion. They are fun, funny, interested in the world around them and interesting in their own right. They care deeply about the environment and human rights and I am immensely proud of them all!

This is Paige, almost 15 and getting ready to enter high school. She is dressed here for her first semiformal dance; I'm sure her date was as knocked out when he saw her as I was. She has finished 20 chapters of the book she is writing and even an unprejudiced reader would be impressed. She will be on the honors program in high school and has some ideas of what she would like to do with her life.

Sarah will be 14 this fall, excels in school and is an avid reader. Most of the jewelry she wears she has designed and created and each piece is a beautiful work of art. She comes to visit me every week and helps care for me without reservation. She is full of imagination and life and shines with a very bright light.

Here we have Emily and Ryan. Emily is 9 and also loves to read. She is an excellent student, has a very outgoing personality and a nurturing and caring temperament. She and her brother live down the lane from Camp and I always look forward to her visits and her lively conversation. Ryan is 4 and is the resident superhero. He is a love bug and you can always count on a big hug

after a sound pouncing. They live in a home with one dog, two cats, one rabbit, and they are raising chickens.

And Alex, almost 17, is the family musician. He is the very excellent drummer in his band and they have done concerts to raise money for the people in Darfur. Although I am too old to totally understand or appreciate his music, I certainly appreciate the talent and hard work involved. They are very good and do well. He does well in school and will be expanding his endeavors to courses in art.

I love them all fiercely and I'm proud to call them mine.

On the Road Again

2008-07-10T13:11:00.004-04:00

For those of you who read my blog back at the beginning, you may recall a story about my famous car, the U.S.S. Tin Can. It served my grandchildren and me well and everyone knew, when they saw it, that Spike (that was my nick name) and the gang were tooling around town. There is now a new vehicle in town, the Tin Can II. I am the proud owner of a beautiful ' 96 van, thanks to a benefit held in my behalf. A ramp has been ordered and before you know it, I will be back on the road again.

The benefit was an extraordinary happening and by way of explanation, I am going to post the letter of thanks I wrote for the local paper.

THANK YOU!

On Friday night, the 30th of last month, friends held a benefit for me at the Elks club in Springfield. Because of my illness I was not able to attend but have been told that it was a huge success. Everyone tells me the food was excellent, the auction fun and that they enjoyed themselves very much, which makes me very happy for, if you know me, you know I have always appreciated a good bash.

I wish to thank, with all of my heart, the people responsible for such an incredible happening. Thanks to Donna Mae Peck and Pat Barton for getting it all off the ground, for their hard work and determination, and for caring enough to make it all come together. Thanks to them both for the delicious buffet you all enjoyed and for their work in the kitchen. Thanks go to Marry Cross for baking scads of scrumptious cookies and for her assistance at the benefit. And thanks to Carol Peck and Kathy Chase for their help and to the other Mrs. Antonivich for digging into the dishes at the end of the evening. I know there were others who came in and out of the kitchen to help and I wish to thank them, also. Kudos to Rod Crandall, I hear he did an excellent job running the auction. And of course, thanks to the people of the Elks for letting the ladies use their club.

Last, but certainly not least, I want to thank everyone who donated to the auction, all of you who gave donations to the cause and everyone who came to the benefit and bid on the terrific items from stores and businesses in the area. Your generosity and kindness have touched me deeply; I am, in a word, overwhelmed. My heart is full, my spirit intact and with people like you in my corner, I will find it easier to fight for life. Bless you all!

Peace

We have been experiencing humid, heavy air in our neck of the woods and it makes it difficult for me to talk into my dragon software. As soon as the air clears some and I catch my wind, I will be able to catch up with my friends and leave comments on the blogs that, for now, I can only read. You are all with me everyday and I am looking forward to reentering land of blogging.

Ain't It The Truth!

2008-06-20T16:16:00.005-04:00

I have some things that I'm trying to get around to blogging about but a friend sent me the following and I realized, when my tears of laughter had dried, that I had to share the humor and the truth of it with you all. Enjoy.

NOAH
In the year 2008, the Lord came unto Noah, who was now living in the United States, and said: Once again, the earth has become wicked and over-populated, and I see the end of all flesh before me.Build another Ark and save 2 of every living thing along with a few good humans.

He gave Noah the blueprints, saying: You have 6 months to build the Ark before I will start the unending rain for 40 days and 40 nights.

Six months later, the Lord looked down and saw Noah weeping in his yard - but no Ark.Noah! He roared, I'm about to start the rain! Where is the Ark?Forgive me, Lord, begged Noah, 'but things have changed.I needed a building permit.

I've been arguing with the inspector about the need for a sprinkler system.

My neighbors claim that I've violated the neighborhood zoning laws by building the Ark in my yard and exceeding the height limitations. We had to go to the Development Appeal Board for a decision.

Then the Department of Transportation demanded a bond be posted for the future costs of moving power lines and other overhead obstructions, to clear the passage for the Ark's move to the sea.I told them that the sea would be coming to us, but they would hear nothing of it.
Getting the wood was another problem. There's a ban on cutting local trees in order to save the spotted owl.I tried to convince the environmentalists that I needed the wood to save the owls - but no go!

When I started gathering the animals, an animal rights group sued me. They insisted that I was confining wild animals against their will. They argued the accommodations were too restrictive, and it was cruel and inhumane to put so many animals in a confined space.

Then the EPA ruled that I couldn't build the Ark until they'd conducted an environmental impact study on your proposed flood.

I'm still trying to resolve a complaint with the Human Rights Commission on how many minorities I'm supposed to hire for my building crew.

Immigration and Naturalization are checking the green-card status of most of the people who want to work.

The trades unions say I can't use my sons. They insist I have to hire only Union workers with Ark-building experience.

To make matters worse, the IRS seized all my assets, claiming I'm trying to leave the country illegally with endangered species.

So, forgive me, Lord, but it would take at least 10 years for me to finish this Ark.

Suddenly the skies cleared, the sun began to shine, and a rainbow stretched across the sky.Noah looked up in wonder and asked,'You mean you're not going to destroy the world?'

'No,' said the Lord.'The government beat me to it.

Sculpting With Paper

2008-06-12T11:58:00.005-04:00

Before ALS invaded my hands and fingers I had discovered the most extraordinary art form... paper sculpture. Since I was unable to master sculpting in it's more well-known forms, having a way to work three dimensionally was exhilarating. I purchased all kinds of interesting papers, from handmade to commercial (even making some of my own) in a rainbow of colors and subtle patterns. I had paper made from barks, cloth and a variety of unusual fibers.

I started out by making flowers then moved on to more complex subjects. I sculpted animals, people and scenes. One of my favorites is owned by my daughter, a three-dimensional scene of a sea serpent rearing up out of a stormy sea. I drew and painted the serpent, then reproduced it a number of times so that I could carefully cut a number of pieces to round out the layers and make it look like it was coming out of the frame. And, of course, layers and layers of rearing waves with white foaming peaks.

The more sculpting I did, the more I realized that with a little imagination there wasn't much I couldn't do with my papers, scissors and glue. Below are a couple of the pieces I did early on. The first is a collection of paper flowers on an ostrich egg and paper stand, the second is paper flowers glued to an interesting piece of driftwood that hangs on my dining room wall.

BTW, my dining room wall is NOT bright orange, I changed the picture for effect. =)

My name is...

2008-06-02T16:37:00.009-04:00

...and if you ask Mom and Dad they will tell you
that I can be very, very fresh.
But I am also very, very

I love to

and run through the house at warp eight.
I like to chase after Dad and try to tackle him
but mostly I only manage to grab him by the knees.
I also like to jump out and grab people by the ankles. but you can ask
anybody, I'm everybody's

Go ahead, ask 'em!

Quilts of Love

2008-05-26T12:15:00.004-04:00

My sister, besides being the wonderful person that she is, is also an artist with material. She is a quilter of extraordinary talents and has her own, successful business. On one of her earlier visits she told my granddaughters that she wanted to make each of them a quilt, patterns and materials of their choosing, and that she wanted to include a poem from me on the back of each one.

Last week she came for another of her much-anticipated visits, finished quilts in hand. On Saturday my daughters and granddaughters came over to visit with us and the presentation was made, to the delight of us all. Paige and Sarah were thrilled with their creations and moved by the love put into every stitch by their aunt Lynn. The poems from me, stitched into flowers on the back, made them all that more personal. The quilts are heirlooms of a very special nature and they will cherish them always.

The pomes are hidden in flowers that tie together, a most original and beautiful idea.

Here we all are, celebrating the joy of family.

Ta--da! The quilts. I forgot to mention that both quilts also have a picture of my granddaughters and me sewn in. Paige's is on the front in the center and Sarah's is on the back sewn into a flower. Paige's quilt has one added feature... she wrote four poems, one each about Earth, Wind, Water and Fire; they are incorporated into her design in the center of blocks of representative colors. There is an arrow pointing to one.

And last, the poems.

My Dear Paige (a.k.a. Doodlebug),

You are a child of deep thought
Of quiet reason
You're imagination is boundless

You have a kind nature
And you warm my heart
With your sweet presence

Time spent with you
Is a joy and a gift
And I am blessed with treasured memories

We are connected by love
We are part of one another
And I will be there with you always

You will forever be my favorite author,

Mimi

My Dear Sarah (a.k.a. Shortcake),

You are a child of energy and light
Of love and kindness
You have warmed my world with your presence

Your bright intelligence
And creative mind
Capture my imagination

My incredible granddaughter
You are a part of me
My love for you knows no bounds

The times that we share
Give my life purpose and meaning
You will always be

My Boom Companion

I will be with you always,

Mimi

In Dreams

2008-05-19T09:34:00.003-04:00

I had a wonderful dream last night
It filtered through my sleep
Subconscious thoughts made all things right
A dream I'd like to keep

In my twilight world I was held no more
By bonds of chairs and wheels
I moved with freedom along the shore
Blue ocean at my heels

Salt stung wind blew through damp hair
My arms swung light and free
The fragrant tang of moist sea air
Caressed and lifted me

With morning sun my dream was spent
No longer what it seemed
But I know where my vision went
It's there within sweet dreams

ALS -- Hitting the Wall and Beyond

2008-05-06T17:19:00.002-04:00

Arms that reached out to my children
Lay still in my lap
How I yearn to hold the young ones close to me
But to no avail
I ache to draw my husband into my embrace
I reach to hold on to them all
But the effort is exhausting and futile

So familiar with the joy of the dance
My legs tingle with the memory of movement
They long to run through green meadows
But remain lifeless in my chair

Sweet spring air teases my lungs
As they work for each precious breath

Insidious disease, you have stolen so much
But you cannot have my spirit
Nor steal my resolve
I may weep, but I will never forget to laugh
I may feel sadness, but I will live for the delight of the moment
I will revel in the love of family, bask in the glow of friendship
And I will survive

To all my blogging and non-blogging friends who continue to come here even when I fall behind, thank you. It isn't as easy to keep up its it was but I have no intention of giving up my blog, it is part of my survival. And to my blogging friends, I visit your blogs often. Even when I don't have the energy or opportunity to comment, I stop by to see what you have to say, what you are up to, and to look at all your wonderful photographs. Love to you all.

Thinking of Lynn

2008-04-20T10:13:00.003-04:00

My reconnection with my "little" sister, Lynn, has been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life. Born when I was 10, my baby sister captured my heart and my imagination. You would think that the difference in our ages would have kept us from being playmates, but this was not the case. I enjoyed having her with me as I played in my room or out in the backyard, a towheaded, good-natured little tyke who seemed to think I was as much fun as I thought she was.

As the years went by we stay connected until circumstances, family baggage and misunderstandings intervened and we lost touch with one another. She is back in my life now and she is one of the most natural, easy people I have ever known. Joyful, honest, forthright and warm, she has a heart that is huge, an energy that knows no bounds and the soul of an angel.

Her home is a 9-hour drive from here and still she manages frequent visits. In between the times we have together, she sends packages to help brighten my days. Sometimes she sends things designed to help manage ALS, other times I'll open a box and find a movie she thinks I would enjoy or an article of bright clothing chosen to lift my spirits. The latest treasure was a hand-painted egg, covered with flowers and a trio of bunnies, to help welcome spring.

A while ago she sent me a collection of photographs she had taken of sunflowers and wanted to know if I could create some kind of a collage of my favorites for her to print out to hang on her wall. The picture above is the result... I think she likes it.

I love you, Little Sis

Carbon Footprints

2008-04-13T13:43:00.004-04:00

If you've been reading my blog over time then you know how passionate I am about our environment. Created from stardust over billions of years, our planet has sustained us through our evolution and continues to roll on through space in the face of our disregard.

We hear a lot now about living green and carbon footprints, information that is imperative to our survival. We hear about solar power and wind power, hybrid cars and carpooling. We are told to recycle and rebuild. The list goes on and I support and try to practice every means of conservation available to me.

And while many of you are doing the same, there is a fly in the ointment. Think back to the adds you have seen promoting a cleaner, healthier planet and see if you remember any mention of the rich and their ever bigger yachts that burn thousands of gallons of fuel on a single cruise. Or of corporate big shots and politicians who fly all over the world in private jets only to be driven from place to place in stretch limousines whose daily consumption of fuel would keep our cars going for a week. What's worse, they are usually doing it with our money.

What's good for one should be good for us all and the effort to correct what may be irreparable damage belongs to everyone who breathes our increasingly polluted air. I don't deny privilege to those who have earned it, but not to the detriment of the planet we all call home.

Why can Congress make it hard for the middle class to drive the cars they love, and at the same time do nothing about moguls burning thousands of gallons an hour in their Gulfstreams or Lursson yachts? If we're gonna stop our addiction to fossil fuels and clean the air, shouldn't the really rich play their part, too?

Ben Stein

Thanks For Idgy

2008-04-06T09:10:00.006-04:00

I can't talk to you about Idgy without letting you know that she was a gift. My husband's son’s wife, Jacqui, found her for me. She was born to the mother of their familie's two cats, delivered by the whole family and handed over by my granddaughter, Emily. From her arms to my lap came this incredible ball of fur on spring-loaded feet.

We are adjusting to being attacked at every turn by 1 pound of haired up fluff, kisses from a papery tongue and surprise pounces. She loves to sleep with me during the day, cuddle up in my lap, and she crashes next to Willie's head at night. I have to be cautious about open wounds so are we are teaching her, with the help of a squirt bottle full of water and a loud "NO" to be careful with her needle sharp claws. As independent as cats can be, she seems to be responding and we are making progress.

Idgy is a joy. She brings us love and provides hours of amusing entertainment and soft cuddles and she fills the house with energy.

Meet Idgy

2008-04-02T15:46:00.006-04:00

Meet the newest member of our family, Miss Idgy. She cuddles, postures, pounces, jumps straight up in the air when she's startled, snuggles one minute and attacks the next. She's got a grand personality and we adore her. She is full of life and she makes us laugh, very strong medicine indeed.

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

2008-03-28T09:09:00.003-04:00

Before I get into what's been going on I want to thank you all for your encouragement and kind words. Knowing that you're out there standing by truly helps when the going gets tough. Thank you and God bless.

About three months ago I began to feel the effects of ALS in my lungs. As my breathing became shallower it began to have negative effects on my sleep and appetite. I saw a pulmonary specialist who, at that time, didn't seem to think I needed any kind of help. He was wrong. My sleep pattern deteriorated to where I was only sleeping a few hours a night. I started having hallucinations in the wee hours of the morning, feeling nauseous during the day and my appetite deteriorated to the point of being dangerous.

I returned to the ALS clinic and saw a new pulmonary doctor and my neurologist who both decided that a noninvasive breathing ventilator was a must at night and wouldn't hurt during the day if I was excessively tired. A sleep study was required for insurance purposes (if you can afford them and have needed them, you have noticed that more often than necessary, insurance companies require you to waste money proving what the doctors already know, and all of my doctors agree that in cases of ALS or any catastrophic illness, there should be fewer questions about a patient's needs; they are as fed up with the insurance dance as we are) but before the obvious results of the study came in I ended up in the hospital. Had I received my BiPAP when it was requested, the hospital could have been avoided and thousands of dollars saved.

My frustration with insurance companies aside, I am home now and am breathing at night with the assistance of said BiPAP machine. Blessed, wonderful sleep has been restored, my appetite is slowly returning, nausea is receding and although I am somewhat weaker, I am feeling better each day. I am looking forward to welcoming spring, in spite of the fact that it seems to have lost its way to Vermont, and reveling in the rebirth and rejuvenation that comes each year at this time.

This post would not be complete without mentioning my family. Their love and support continue to shine through and they keep me going when I feel like I cannot. And my angel, Barbara, who is not only a caregiver but also a good and trusted friend, as is Lolly, who is always there.

Back On Track

2008-03-06T17:43:00.004-05:00

Hello all. I am way behind in my visits to your blogs, commenting and posting. Because you all mean so very much to me I didn't want you to think I have lost interest. I have some ALS issues that are causing me distress and need to be addressed. The end result is that I have been very tired and some days something as simple as working on the computer seems a daunting task.

I will probably be going into the hospital for an overnight sleep study after which whatever adjustments are needed will be attended to and I will have the energy to return to BlogLand. In the meantime I will stop by when I can and post when my energy level allows.

Love and peace

Field Trip

2008-02-27T16:19:00.015-05:00

Last week my daughter, granddaughter and Barb's daughter were all on vacation so we took the opportunity to get together and take a field trip. One of my favorite places to visit has always been Simon Pearce Glass in Windsor Vermont, and since Deb and Sarah love to go there too and Barb and Breanna had never been there, we decided it was the perfect choice.

All their glass is handblown by a small group of artisans and they have a balcony that goes out over the work area so that you can watch them do their magic. Glassblowing is a delicate dance and a cooperative effort as elegant pieces are blown, molded, rolled and joined together, each person knowing exactly what steps to take as component parts are assembled to create a work of art.

Above are pictures of their showroom.

This is an overview of the front half of the work area. You can see the almost white hot fire in the openings of their secondary ovens, the ones they use to keep reheating the glass as they shape and mold, like the man below.

This is a photograph of their main oven. It heats and melts all necessary ingredients, making the molten glass ready for the glassblowers. It is from this oven that each artisan removes hot orange glass with his or her glassblowing tube. Their judgment for knowing how much glass is needed for a particular project seems infallible.

To the right of the oven in this picture, you can see one of their artisans working with the superheated material, rolling and blowing the glass, coaxing it into elegant shapes. On the floor are troughs of running water. They place wooden molds in these troughs and, for some pieces, blow glass into the mold.

Unfortunately, when we arrived, many of the artisans were at lunch and the work area was rather quiet, and a few of our pictures didn't come out. I'm sorry to have missed one in particular; it was a photo of the sweeping, curved handle of a pitcher being attached to the pitcher with delicacy and perfection.

A simple wineglass can cost from $58 to $108, so as beautiful as I think the work done here is, I will never be able to set a table with Simon Pearce glass. But, some years ago, I did treat myself to a brandy snifter and three glass ice cubes. From the seconds table.

Sharing a Joke

2008-02-24T12:35:00.002-05:00

When you are in deep shit,

Look straight ahead,

Keep your mouth shut and say nothing.

Remembering Gus

2008-02-11T15:47:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, during the years before I moved to Vermont, I partnered, for a few of those years, in managing a boarding stable. We boarded between 10 and 15 horses and made an effort at breeding Appaloosas. Our sire, Saint, was a colorful, handsome boy with excellent conformation, our brood mare, Rosie, a sturdy, well put together gal who's colors were somewhat muted by comparison.

With great anticipation we awaited the birth of our first foal. Its birth went well and everything seemed fine for the first few days but as time passed, we noticed a rapid deterioration in the well being of our first baby. The vet was called but the foal died before he could determine what was amiss.

Distraught but determined, we decided to give Rosie ample time to get back on her feet and try again. And, again, we were blessed with a frisky little foal. A few days later, like a bad dream come back to haunt us, this little filly also took a turn for the worst. The vet came back and this time was able to determine the cause of our problems. It seemed that the parents had an RH incompatibility and Rosie's milk was poisoning her baby.

We quickly separated the two and I took over feedings. I named the filly "August Morn," called her "Gus" for short and began the process of teaching her how to drink from a bottle. I thought little Gus would take to a bottle without any difficulties, these things always look so easy when you see them done on television, but such was not to be the case. She was suffering from separation anxiety and confusion and wasn't sure what to do with an unfamiliar object.

I don't know what gave me the idea, but I decided to try bringing a bucket of milk up to her muzzle, putting my finger in the milk and slipping it into her soft, warm mouth. This seemed to appeal to her and in no time I was able to switch her over to a bottle. It wasn't long before she came to think of me as her mother and when she wasn't napping, would follow me everywhere as I cared for the other horses and tended to my chores. We became quite close and games of tag, hide and seek and kicking at each other became the norm.

In my memory I will always see her there with her dark, shiny coat, white spots prominant on her rear and liquid brown eyes looking into mine with the question "hey mom, what's up?"

Rural Vermont

2008-02-04T08:33:00.000-05:00

It was almost 30 years ago when I moved to Vermont from a town south of Boston. I desperately wanted to get away from the masses of people, the noise and the pollution and live somewhere where the air was pristine and you could drink the water straight out of babbling brooks. Since my children had left to start their own lives and I had a friend living in a small Vermont town, it seemed the opportune time for a change and, after selling everything that wouldn't fit in my car, I struck out for the Green Mountains and a new life.

The beauty and charm of the state of Vermont has never ceased to delight me and I love living here. What's more, it wasn't long before I discovered that rural life in the mountains had some rather unique attributes. For instance, there are probably more dirt roads in this state than there are paved ones and a popular pastime is back road cruising. This requires taking enough time to very slowly traverse the roads that wind through the mountains and to appreciate the exquisite beauty they have to offer. Lush and green, the mountains here share the land with crystalline lakes, clear, cool rivers and sparkling brooks. Three to four hours is required for a proper cruise and to ensure the perfect ride, a picnic and some Vermont brewed beer should be taken along.

We also have five seasons, in contrast to the traditional four, the fifth being mud season. At this time of the year, between winter and spring, all of those charming back roads turn into pits of muck and mire. The mud is like quicksand and if you aren't careful, will suck your car down and hold it prisoner. I had a car get stuck so badly once that when I opened the door, the thick brown ooze crept in over my floorboards. It took a backhoe to pull me out. To those who live out on the dirt roads, mud season is the bane of their existence. The rest of us avoid them until the warmth of spring days and balmy breezes have had the chance to dry them out.

And then there is a great sport of pumpkin rolling. I do not know if it is unique only to the town I live in, but I have it on good authority that it started here many years ago. My town is built on hills, many of them quite steep. Except for the road through the center of town, everything is up and down. (Egad, that sounds like Dr. Seuss!) Anyway, you get the idea. So, on Halloween, car trunks, the backs of vans and truck beds are filled with pumpkins, the vehicles are taken to the tops of the hills and all contained pumpkins are let loose to roll down to Main Street. Much hooting and hollering is included. Your punishment, if you are caught, is to clean up the mess, but many are not caught and the day after Halloween finds the streets littered with bright orange pumpkin rinds. Strangely enough, within a day or two, it all disappears and becomes a memory.

Small Regrets

2008-01-30T09:07:00.000-05:00

As we get older it's only natural to look back over our lives and take measure. What did we accomplish that we are most proud of, what do we regret? Although I do not believe in living in the past, it is not a thing to be forgotten for it is the sum and substance of who we are today. And I do not believe in dwelling on the negative, it only impedes our progress forward.

But I do have one regret that stays with me, and that is not having a chance to complete my education. As I came to the end of my high school years and had to think about college (Massachusetts Institute of Art, Rhode Island School of Design and RIT came to mind) I knew I wanted to pursue an education in art. Unfortunately, my family and the times did not encourage four years of college for girls. The women in my family had laid out my future and although I was allowed two years of junior college, it was more in preparation for marriage and motherhood than a career.

So off I went to what was, basically, a glorified finishing school and proceeded to drop out after the first year to marry a bad boy. (This in a foolish effort to get away from abusive and controlling parents.) Four years later I had two little girls, a divorce from the bad boy, who didn't pay child support, and a job to support my children.

Admittedly, I regret the marriage to the bad boy, but have never regretted the two beautiful children that the marriage produced. They hardly know him, but the three of us have a very special bond and as adults they are my dear friends as well as my incredible daughters.

Which, in a roundabout way, gets me back to education. I never did have the time or the finances to complete my education and, as an artist, I am pretty much self-taught. I am proud of the accomplishments I have made on my own but am well aware of the fact that the proper college would have made a very big difference. I would've learned much of what I needed to know in a considerably shorter period of time, I would've had the experience of college, which helps us grow in other ways, and I would've had a degree. Which would have meant a lot, for, you see, I would have loved to teach.

To my grandchildren, who read their Mimi's blog, I will reiterate how important I think education is. I believe that something beyond high school, be it college, trade school, apprenticeships or hands on learning, is important to the success of your future.

Thank You

2008-01-23T07:18:00.000-05:00

Saxton's River, VT

Thank you, everyone, for your condolences and kind words on the loss of my dear companion, Hattie the cat. I miss her terribly but have wonderful memories to warm me.

I'm taking a short break. My sister, Lynn, is coming for a four-day visit (woo hoo) and we are having another "ladies night" on Friday night to wish our Mary a bon voyage and to congratulate her on a clean bone scan. She has survived two bouts of breast cancer and, after a bit of a scare, is now cancer free. All the girls will get to meet my sister, and to complete the festivities, Barbara will be joining my sister and me for an overnight.

My broken camera is a goner, it can't be fixed but I have a new one and am looking forward to sharing pictures of the coming weekend with you next week.

Peace

Farewell

2008-01-17T06:01:00.000-05:00

Not too long ago, I wrote about my very spunky, beautiful and loving Siamese cat, Hattie. I am writing now to say goodbye.

On Saturday afternoon she came and sat on my lap for an unusually long time. I know now that it was her farewell to me, her last gift, for when she left my lap she curled up in her favorite spot and refused to get up for food, water or love. She died of end-stage renal failure, and we were stunned. She had shown no signs whatsoever of discomfort or distress.

She was with us for 18 years and I will miss her more than I can say. She has been my constant companion, always ready for a snuggle, a tummy rub, a walk in the woods or a game of hide and seek.

Goodbye, my sweet friend, sleep well.

Quality of Life

2008-01-09T07:45:00.001-05:00

Quality of life is not a subject I ever thought I would be writing about, especially not at the age of 65 and not about me. But it has been on my mind for three years now, ever since my ALS diagnosis (about four years symptomatic.) I have learned a lot in those three years and because it's an important subject for most of us at some point in our lives, usually because of parents, but sometimes because of siblings, friends, our children or ourselves, I have decided to share my thoughts.

In the beginning, trouble with my hands or difficulty on the stairs didn't seem to be such a big deal and denial was easy. This couldn't be happening to me. But as time passed and I had to quit a job I loved, give up kayaking, hiking and the like and relinquish my driving privileges, reality began to set in. When I started falling down and had to purchase a walker and wheelchair, I came face-to-face with some very hard truths.

What's worse, I was alone most of the time during the week as my husband had to work, everyone in my family works and my friends work. I was terrified and although I swore I would fight with everything I had and promised myself to keep a good attitude, there was too much time to think. And one of the things I thought was that if I ever reached the point where I could not take care of myself and became a prisoner in my own body, could not go to the bathroom, wash, feed or tend to my own needs, I would be done and would not want to go on. I knew at some point I would have to get someone in to care for me, but that made me feel worse rather than better because I could not picture myself helpless in the hands of a stranger. I was trying hard but could feel the smothering blanket of depression coming down around me, I was looking into the abyss.

Then Barbara, my caregiver, came into my life and I learned something very important. I believe that quality of life is a personal thing, we each have to decide what we can and cannot live with, but I now know that quality of care can make or break how you feel about living. Some of the people who care for the elderly or the infirm are not what I would call true caregivers, there is a difference and that difference makes all the difference. For those of us who need their help, we also need to keep our sense of pride and emotional independence. Barbara has a heart that is huge and a giving soul and she has become my friend, we are in this together and she is helping me to fight on. Instead of the helpless, self-conscious feeling of embarrassment that I had expected, I find comfort in her ministrations, camaraderie and empowerment. She helps me to keep my sense of self; I am about me, not my disease.

As my dear friend Tammy and a few others have proven, sometimes ALS stops progressing for no apparent reason. And there is always the hope for a cure. What I didn't know before but know now is that with the right caregivers by the side of those of us who need them, it is easier to fight, easier to hold onto hope, easier to live a worthwhile life. Family and friends are extremely important, but the caregivers are our lifelines.

It's All In De Feet!

2008-01-04T17:04:00.000-05:00

Since my camera was broken at Christmas time this year, I am waiting for photographs to filter in from the family. The first to arrive was a photo of my favorite gang in their bunny slippers, given to them by Angela, Willie's daughter.

We had a delightful, wonderful Christmas, all of us gathered together Christmas Eve at my daughter Debbie's house, in high spirits and good humor.

Wishing you all a happy, healthy New Year and all of us another year of friendships over the net.

Peace, everyone.

Simply Art

2007-12-24T08:17:00.000-05:00

Of Butterfly Wings...

...And Feathers

Winter

Holiday Wishes

2007-12-18T06:34:00.000-05:00

Christmas is only a week away and we are getting busy with baking, completing homemade gifts and wrapping. So I'm going to put regular blogging on hold until after the holiday and take this time to wish you all comfort and joy.

May the magic and spirit of the season be yours the year through and your best gifts be love and laughter. May your Christmas lights be free of hopeless tangles, your tree not need two feet cut off the top and may all your children's gifts be pre-assemble.

Peace

Serious Business

2007-12-08T09:21:00.000-05:00

I've been watching the controversy about the possibility of a law against spanking and I'm wondering what your take is on this proposal.

As for me, I never struck my kids in the heat of anger or frustration, choosing to walk away, but do admit to a few, light pops on the butt when they were young. I grew up with a mother who believed that beating her children, with her hands or any available object, was her right and that slapping them, hard and in the face, was a necessary measure when they spoke out of turn. So, when I became a mother myself, I had a good idea of what not to do, wondering, always, how parents could willfully hurt their children. I do not believe that hitting children is an acceptable manner of discipline but neither do I believe that the government has the right to monitor our personal lives. This would be a gross invasion of privacy.

Government is getting out of hand and its tentacles are reaching into places they were never meant to be. Now they want to monitor the rearing of our children. I am all for saving children from child abuse, but abusers are the minority and this law would bring the eyes of Big Brother into the homes of many innocent people. Doctors, teachers and counselors are already on the watch for children who are being mistreated, and although they have saved a lot of children from further abuse, they have also mistaken accidents for something other than what they are and have caused good parents and their children a lot of anguish. A double edged sword, to be sure. Can you imagine the government being involved?

And what of children who think their parents are being unfair and see it as a means of retaliation? This point was brought up to me by my husband, who knows of such a case.

It's a conundrum and there are no easy answers. It's not a perfect world and, unfortunately, we cannot always protect the abused, be it children, women or the elderly, from their abusers. I just believe there has to be a better answer than government involvement.

I am very interested in your opinions.

A Little Break

2007-12-04T16:08:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone--I've had the stuffing kicked out of me by a nasty head cold and barely have the energy to post. I'll try to visit everybody in fits and starts but vegging in my recliner seems to be all I can manage at the moment. I made this fractal last week, using candy canes (click on it to enlarge, and you'll see them) my first attempt at holiday cheer. I'll be baaaaaack!

Ms. Hattie

2007-11-28T06:17:00.000-05:00

My Siamese cat, Hattie, deserves a mention on my blog since she is so very dear to me and is a unique character in her own right. She is a petite, 71/2-pound seal point with a very light chest and dark caboose and will be turning 18 this spring. Amazingly, she doesn't look like she's aged a day since she reached maturity. She is still quite spry and takes pleasure in chasing a crumpled piece of paper around the house, occasionally overshooting and going into a tuck and roll. Her passion for hunting has dimmed, however, much to my husband's and my relief, as she was a most accomplished hunter.

She is quite sociable and when she wants your attention, will climb upon the arm of the chair you are sitting in and stare deeply into your eyes, daring you to ignore her. If you do, she will reach out with a paw and tap you on the arm in order to get the attention she feels she deserves and if you ignore her still, she will unsheathe her claws just enough to make her point. Tucked in beside you or on your lap is the final objective.

Last week my husband bought her the first pouch of catnip she'd had in quite some time and we were very curious to see what our old girl would do it. While we watched, she bit it, rolled it around and did the usual rubbing up against and sliding over it that most cats do. She then did something I've never seen a cat do before. After staring it down for a minute or two, she walked over to it and sat on it as if she were staking a claim. Since that first encounter she has chosen to use it as a rest for her front paws or to sleep on. It seems that, in her dotage, she is a rather passive cat when she's wrecked.

Sadly, I have no pictures of her antics to share with you since my digital camera is kaput. I am hoping to find someone who can repair it before Christmas!

Thanksgiving

2007-11-19T14:26:00.001-05:00

My ALS clinic was last Wednesday and the good news is that I am still doing better than expected after three years into this disease. The good news is that although my voice has been affected to some degree, it is still fairly strong (my singing sucks but that's not a big change, ask anyone). I can still eat and swallow with ease and my facial muscles are minimally compromised. The good news is that although my arms and legs can no longer carry me through my days, they still have the ability to jive a little to a good Dixie Chicks tune and my core muscles can still keep me sitting up straight enough and strong enough to do a mini chair dance.

The bad news is that I am only moving half of the air in and out of my lungs as I was a year ago but the good news is that I am getting all the oxygen I need from the air that I breath. There are times when I am uncomfortable, but it's nothing I can't handle. I do have to see a pulmonary specialist for a more refined test and a second opinion, but all in all, my doctor and my team of therapists were impressed with how well I am managing.

So this Thanksgiving I am giving thanks to a body that keeps on fighting, to a spirit that believes in living each day to the fullest and to the people who help keep that body and spirit strong whenever I need them to. And thanks to all of you who come here and share my days, it means more than you know.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone, and always… peace.

The First Weekend of Hunting Season

2007-11-13T07:02:00.000-05:00

Introducing the hunting widows,

clockwise from bottom left: Kathy, Kathy,

Joanne, Carol, Mary and Susan.

You know the gal in the middle...

...And my new friend and caregiver, Barbara (I had to

wait until I had a picture she approved of!)

That's Susan peeking out from behind.

Once again it's hunting season in Vermont. On Friday night the men headed to hunting camp for a night of camaraderie before the opening of the season on Saturday morning and, as we always do, the hunting widows got together for an evening of the same. Since we are all very busy with home, family, grandchildren, and jobs, we don't always have the opportunity to get together in a group as often as we would like and this was a chance to catch up. My home was filled with the warmth of good friends, great conversation and the ring of laughter.

My caregiver, Barbara, joined us this year and was a wonderful addition to the festivities, adding her humor and spark to the mix. She spent the night with me and my kayaking buddies, Susan and Kathy, came back the next morning and joined us for breakfast. Thanks to Kathy we were treated to raisin, cinnamon French toast with Vermont syrup, a favorite. Following breakfast we went for a walk in the crisp morning air before they had to head home.

Saturday afternoon my daughters and granddaughters came to spend the afternoon, night and following morning with me and we spent our time going through all my old photographs, watching my home movies from the years when I took care of my grandchildren and playing Scrabble. Sunday morning my daughters touched up my highlights, straightened up the house and got me dressed. My granddaughters took on a job started by my friend Lolly and finished printing the pages of my blog, putting them in plastic sleeves and into the half filled notebook. My granddaughter, Paige, designed my cover, but that's another story.

Sunday afternoon my husband's daughter, Angela, came over to keep me company. We chatted and watched a movie while we waited for her father to come home and he and I were treated to a delicious meal of enchiladas that she had made and brought with her.

It was a wonderful, WONDERFUL weekend and I want to say thank you to family and friends!

Tomorrow I head to Dartmouth Hitchcock Hospital for an ALS clinic. My breathing and overall progression will be tested and any problems I'm having will be addressed. Although I have good doctors and I like them, I'm not particularly fond of clinic and grateful that my daughters and Barbara will be along for support.

Friends, Old and New

2007-11-07T06:44:00.000-05:00

It's been a little over a year since I started blogging and in that time you have read quite a bit about my family and friends, all the people I love and who support me in my battle against ALS. This post is about one of my oldest friends and my newest friend.

I met Lolly almost 28 years ago and we took to each other instantly. On the surface it would seem that we have nothing in common. She is soft-spoken and quietly passionate, I tend to be very animated and overly exuberant about my passions. She doesn't like to drive; I used to travel all over the place alone, including cross-country. She's not nuts about outdoor sports, I love them. There are these outward differences but fundamentally, where it counts, we are very much alike and she is my soul mate.

We are both artist's, not just because of what we create but also because of how we see the world. We are oversensitive to everything around us and care deeply about the human condition. We share a sense of humor, a fondness for the same kinds of movies and music and a burning passion for the beauty of nature. We can talk endlessly or sit in comfortable silence, happy in each other's company.

Barbara came into my life towards the end of summer and is my caregiver. She is also a friend. I can do very little on my own and she tends to my needs with compassion and caring, never making me feel like less because of my illness. As important as that is, it's not why she means so much to me. What counts the most is the person that she is, a warm, exuberant woman with a heart as big as her enthusiasm for life.

She enters my house every morning with a positive attitude and a sense of humor to equal my own. We share a zest for living and the inane, and often find ourselves overcome with laughter, tears streaming down our faces.

Every day these women are a part of my life, helping me to stay balanced, helping me to fight my disease, holding me up when it all seems like too much and listening when I need to talk.

I cherish the constant presence of Lolly in my life, my dear old friend, and welcome Barbara’s, my dear new one.

Stoked on Art

2007-11-02T07:26:00.000-04:00

Photoshop is a Pandora's box of goodies. It lends itself to endless hours of experimentation with a multitude of techniques and possibilities. I recently discovered a new application, one that makes it possible to create Photoshop fractals and I have just begun to explore its potential. I am super stoked! Rather than bore you with words, I'll share my excitement by posting some of my "first try" images. Artistically, this is a whole new direction for me and I can't wait to see where it leads!

Untitled I

Venus Flytrap

Motion

Red Dragon

Octopus

Night Spirit

The Butterfly Effect

Midnight Garden

Blue Pearls

The Drugging of America

2007-11-02T07:10:00.000-04:00

It is a fact that the United States and New Zealand are the only two countries that allow the kind of drug advertising that we are exposed to on our televisions on a daily basis. The kind of advertising that plays on emotions and fear. The average person sees 10 or more drug ads every day and the message is very clear. If you've got a problem, they have a drug for it.

I have nothing against drugs; they save lives, smooth out chemical imbalances, kill viruses and are a necessary part of our lives. What I am against is doctors issuing prescriptions before they consider diet, exercise, rest or environment. And parents who think, with the first sneeze or sniffle, that their children need to be rushed to the doctors and put on antibiotics.

Our immune systems were meant to build up resistance to the many bugaboos that constantly attack it but with the over use of drugs, the only thing that's building up a resistance are the bugaboos. Witness the new, virulent strain of staff that has doctors and people on edge.

And then there are all those possibly dangerous side effects. This is of special concern for our children, whose bodies are small and unused to alien substances. Instead of Ritalin and the like, many parents are discovering that a change in their children's diets can make all the difference. By eliminating foods full of chemicals and refined sugars and by examining the possibility of allergies, many parents have realized dramatic changes in their children's behavior. Yes, sometimes drugs are necessary, but why start with the drugs? Why not start with the other possibilities first and then, if the holistic approach fails, administer drugs. There's a lot to be said in defense of proper diet and exercise and consideration of the whole being.

I place much of the blame for a drug-oriented society on our drug companies. They have made extraordinary strides with the development of drugs for a wide diversity of diseases and are, indeed, saving lives. But it seems that their bottom line is their focal point as they offer doctors huge incentives to get their drugs out for public consumption, which encourages greedy doctors to dispense drugs before they consider alternative approaches. And their constant bombardment of advertisements imply that anything that is wrong with us can be fixed with a pill and that there is no need for us to be uncomfortable or unhappy. A quick fix. Unfortunately, a lot of what is wrong with us is our diets and a lack of exercise, and there is no quick fix.

To the drug companies I say this: your profit margins are huge so if you want to impress me, spend less of your money on your bombardment of advertisements and pill pushing and more on making necessary drugs more accessible to the elderly and low income families by making them cheaper. And spend more of your profits researching cures for orphan diseases, the ones you don't see as profitable.The business of drugs is not just about business, it's about our lives.

The Building of Camp

2007-10-27T08:20:00.000-04:00

There were a couple of comments on my camp post that made me think it might be fun to blog about how our camp came to be. Mama P. asked if we owned a cabin or if camp was on our property, and Bonita said our camp reminded her of a yurt. Both of these points are relevant.

First, the property. With the passing of my husband's parents he and his children inherited the family homestead, property that has been in his family for 175 years. It consists of a farmhouse and a small barn on 200 acres of land on Eagleshead Mountain, which overlooks the Black River Valley and is, to my eyes, one of the most beautiful places on earth. Down the lane from the farmhouse his father had built a log cabin that had, over the years, begun to rot into the ground.

My husband and I had spent many summers pitching a tent and camping in the yard in front of the old cabin when we decided to raze it and build a place of our own for weekends and summers. Our first thought was a yurt, but they are expensive and we wanted something more personal. After some deliberation, we decided to build a camp of our own design and to build it from the trees available to us on our mountainside. Willie cut and dragged the trees from the forest, removed their limbs, then rolled them to me and I stripped the bark with a Peavey. Beams and boards were cut and stacked to dry.

Because we liked the appearance of the yurts, Willie designed the building with eight sides to give it that rounded look. The first summer we managed to complete the framework and the roof. The following winter Willie designed and built a door and the cupola, which he topped off with copper. The next summer the sides went up, the windows went in, the cupola was placed on top and we finished up with the door. That fall we installed an antique wood stove that had been in the farmhouse, put in some old rugs, bought a futon and finally got to spend our first weekend under our roof. We had the first snowstorm of the season that night and our friends all drove through the heavy snow to join us in a camp warming.

It has been a few years since that first incredible weekend and we have added kitchen cabinets, sink and stovetop and a lovely table for dining. The cabinets and table were both built by my husband from the old butternut tree in the front yard and, like our camp, are a work of art. Camp is cozy and warm in the winter, comfortably cool in summer and shows off my husband's considerable talents. It is my favorite place to be.

Basking

2007-10-23T05:36:00.000-04:00

The weather, Sunday, was an anomaly for this time of year, with temperatures in the low 80s. The air was crystal clear and the sun was shining, so we decided a jaunt to camp would be the perfect way to spend the afternoon. Our granddaughter, Emily, rode her bike over to join us, followed by her mom and dad and brother Ryan. We spent a lovely afternoon soaking up the warm autumn sunshine, visiting and strolling down our wooded lane with the bright colors of fall scattered beneath our feet and arched over our heads. The following pictures were taken by my granddaughter and her mom, Jacqui.

The air seemed to glow with the bright colors of the season.

As we strolled down the lane, the crunch and pungent aroma
of the vibrant leaves beneath our feet filled our senses.

A translucent blue sun stands out against the colors of the season,

as afternoon shadows stretch across a lawn

still dressed in summer green

and tangerine and ocher leaves

play against a cobalt sky.

You've Got A Friend In Me

2007-10-13T10:29:00.000-04:00

The following photos were taken by Tammy's friend, Cheryl.

We meet for the first time, a joyous occasion!

As it was in words, it is in person...We revel in our connection.

And as the song goes, "You've Got a Friend In Me!"

Birthdays

2007-10-10T16:32:00.000-04:00

Before I move on to other things, I have to wish a couple of very special young ladies a very happy birthday. I made the pictures for their cards using illustrations I found that I knew they would like, superimposed photos of their faces and then did a little Photoshop razzamatazz.

Happy 13th birthday, Sarah!

(Original illustration By Ellen Lorian)

Happy 14th birthday, Paige!

(Original illustration By Maxine Gadd)

Batman and Robin

2007-10-06T08:42:00.000-04:00

I met Tammy (The Daily Warrior.blogspot.com) on the ALS site "Patients like me." We began e-mailing and found, in spite of the difference in our ages, that we had a lot in common. A dialogue began and a relationship bloomed. We have come to love one another and this is a story about an incredible connection. It all started a year ago and she has become a very important person in my life. We talk to each other often on our computers through Yahoo and have, over the past year, shared the ups and downs of living with ALS, the joys and sorrows of life, our faith in the power of positive thinking and everything in between, from politics to religion.

Something else we share is an extremely healthy sense of humor and a strong will to survive. Joyce (Pepektheassassin) who visits both of our blogs, noticed our connection and dubbed us "Batman and Robin." The names stuck and we have been using them ever since. (Hence the "Batchair" - my power chair.)

Tammy lives in California and I live all the way across the country in Vermont. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that we would get to meet, but miracles do happen and this last week Tammy flew, in the company of her good friend Cheryl, across the United States so that we could meet and know each other in person. It was the most extraordinary visit, she is every bit as kind, warm, funny and strong as I had come to believe she was. She is a truly beautiful woman, inside and out, delicate in stature with a gamin face and wonderful, big eyes that are full of humor and mischief. Her smile could light up the East Coast. And although we were both mildly apprehensive about our first meeting, the connection we share is absolute and everlasting.

We talked of many things while she was here, sharing our lives and our hearts and I am not ashamed to admit that I cried when she left. But I am not sad, for she has given me an enormous gift with her visit and the hope, since this is a trip I cannot make, that she may come this way again, and bring her husband with her.

Today is Saturday and she leaves this afternoon to head back home. Bon voyage, my very dear friend, I love you and will talk to you next week.

Politics, Survival and Exploding Eggs

2007-09-28T14:50:00.000-04:00

In the past I have posted satirical poems and pictures expressing my viewpoints on our current president and the politics of the day. And Bush's recent veto on a $12 billion bill for children's healthcare because we "can't afford it" while at the same time asking for $195 billion for the war in Iraq had me spinning in the Batchair.

Under the current regime our country has amassed a debt that my great-grandchildren won't be able to pay off, our dollar is falling, our soldiers are falling, health care is a mess, education is struggling and our country is losing respect around the world.

My illness dictates that I avoid stress, it has a very negative effect on my condition, but how does one do that, especially in the current atmosphere? The answer is we can't, not unless we choose to remain ignorant of the world around us, and that is not an option. And, in the real world, there is always conflict and adversity. From the small day-to-day glitches to the war in Iraq to global warming, to live on planet Earth is to be involved.

So how do we survive? By being involved and doing what we can when we can. By taking good care of ourselves and caring for others. By living life to its fullest, keeping in mind that our time here is short and it is our one chance, and by always keeping our sense of humor.

Which brings me to... Willie's eggs. A few nights ago my husband was boiling eggs for his lunch the next day. He set them to cooking then came in to join me for the evening news. Since he'd had a long day, it wasn't long before he fell into a light sleep, the eggs forgotten by us both.

I was engrossed in the news until I heard a strange popping sound in the kitchen. Figuring it was our cat, I gave it little attention. A few minutes later there was an explosion that brought my husband straight up out of his chair and into a full run. There was a moment of silence as he entered the kitchen and then I heard him burst into gales of laughter. The water in the pot had boiled dry and the eggs had exploded, covering, from what I could discern between bouts of hilarity, a substantial area, including the ceiling. This is the kind of thing that usually ticks my husband off and sets me into fits of giggles. I was happy that, this time, he could see the humor in the situation and let the stress of the day evaporate with his laughter.

Aloft

2007-09-20T10:08:00.001-04:00

Since my grandson was busy organizing, and playing in a concert for the benefit of the skate park the day we celebrated my birthday and was unable to attend, I thought it only fitting to share a picture of him hurtling through space at said skate park. Aside from being an excellent drummer and an adept snowboarder, Alex is a whiz on the skateboard and is, this fall, going to be teaching this gravity defying sport to others.

For the life of me, I don't understand how these kids do it. Not only do they defy gravity, they seldom seem to lose their skateboards in the process. Rock on, Alex!

Speeding Through the Universe

2007-09-17T13:54:00.000-04:00

In the grand scheme of things in the universe, our presence on planet earth is but a wink in time. Trying to comprehend the vastness and complexity of what is beyond our little island in space is enough to cause a migraine. Trying to comprehend the speeds at which we travel is enough to cause permanent brain damage.

Earth rotates at 1000 miles per hour at the equator while it speeds around the sun at 67,000 miles per hour. At the same time, it is moving, with our solar system, around the center of the Milky Way galaxy at one half a million miles per hour as the galaxy hurtles through space.

If it weren't for the size of our planet and its galaxy and the power of gravity, we'd all be blown into dust and flung into space. Personally, in spite of size and gravity, I am in awe of the fact that, given the numbers, we aren't at least suffering from windburn!

I found the above fractal on the Internet and want to thank whoever created it, it is awesome.

Hard Work and Humor

2007-09-11T13:47:00.000-04:00

Here is my husband standing next to 14 cords of wood... give or take. We heat our home with an outside would furnace and now that I can't help, Will has to get all the wood for the winter on his own. From cutting down the trees to removing the limbs and dragging them out of the woods, from cutting the logs into measured lengths and stacking them, it is an arduous but satisfying task.

Willie spent last week's vacation in the woods out past camp cutting and stacking wood, getting it ready to bring home for this year's heating season. Except for some help from his cousin and a friend on Monday, my husband is responsible for the impressive stack of wood you see above.

I used to love helping Will get the wood stacked up for winter...the smell of crisp, late summer days mingling with the pungent aroma of the woods, the sounds of the forest lost in the crashing of trees and the wine of the chainsaw, and the fulfillment of hard work and sweat as our pile grew ever larger. And the camaraderie of labor shared and enjoyed. However, I am secure in the knowledge that I will be warm through the long Vermont winter thanks to my husband's efforts.

And now, a little humor...

Sisters

2007-09-05T07:24:00.000-04:00

Introducing the lovely women who are my sisters. Above is my sister Lynn, 10 years younger, 6 inches taller and in possession of a heart that is absolutely huge. She is an artist with material and has her own quilting business along with being a dental assistant. Her quilts are a rush of color, form and texture and captivate the eye. She also creates memory quilts, a combination of her art and client's photographs.

And this is my sister Ann, also six or so inches taller (I think I've mentioned that at 4' 11 1/2 " I am the only short sibling of 5 and, since the tall grass has always seemed greener to me, this has rankled = D ) and 17 years younger. I left for college just after her, and her twin's, first birthday, so, aside from brief visits over the years, we never really knew each other. We are, however, making up for the lost time. She, also, has a kind and generous heart. She is an assistant dean at a college in the east and has been showing her unique and fascinating wearable and material art in a gallery in NYC for twenty years.

Both of these lovely, talented and funny ladies have filled my life with hope, caring and love. They visit when they can and Lynn recently spent almost four days here, a nine hour drive, filling my home with her boundless energy and sunny disposition. They have both helped to make my fight for life easier and have changed my life in wonderful ways. I love them more than words can say.

Balance

2007-08-25T10:52:00.001-04:00

Life is, after all, a balance of energy. Some good, some bad, some happenings so insignificant that you hardly notice them, some so huge that they change the course of your life forever.

I had a terrible fall yesterday, coming into my house from outside. Somehow, the arm of the Batchair got caught as I was entering the house and was pushed up out of the way. The motion of the chair was altered and as it spun around, I was thrown over the side and onto the floor. I landed facedown, one leg twisted and pinned between the leg of the dining room table and the leg of a chair. My face smashed down onto the rug, my glasses, thank heavens, shot out in front of me and as the dust cleared, I realized I was in a very bad spot. I couldn't move or reach my phone and my caregiver, Barbara, who is not yet on full time, had left and wasn't due back for another hour.

Since my house sits back from the road, yelling was futile. In an effort to keep panic at bay, however, I hollered for help every five to 10 minutes and focused on taking deep breaths. I spent the time trying to keep the pain in my leg at a minimum, my head as comfortable as possible, tears in check and avoiding eating rug dirt. As I lay there I couldn't help but think about balance and how much I would appreciate something happening that would make the whole experience worth it.

Which brings me to what this post is really about, for not two hours after Barbara arrived and called 911, my caseworker called to tell me that we had been accepted for assistance. Barbara, who I will tell you about in another post for she is truly an angel, will now be with me 40 hours a week and I will no longer have to worry about my daily care or being alone should I run into trouble.

You see, balance. Usually events that balance each other don't come in succession, sometimes it even takes years, but yesterday I was eternally grateful for such a quick return.

As for my battered body, I'm going to need a little time. My face looks like I have been in a fight, the tendons in my knee have been torn and it is swollen and quite painful and I ache from stem to stern. Do I feel the balance was even? Hell yeah, I now have anangel by my side.

On another note, I want you all to know that I have been reading your blogs every day even though, with all the changes going on here, I haven't always had time to comment. In time we will develop a routine and I will have the pleasure of chatting with you every time I visit. In the meantime, thank you all so very much for your continued visits and support, you light up the good days and help carry me through the difficult ones.

I Want To Live

2007-08-21T11:32:00.000-04:00

The following poem is dedicated to my family and the friends who, with their generosity on my 65th birthday, made it possible for me to keep my caregiver for another three weeks or so while we await the results of our application for caregiver assistance. It was also written in appreciation for all the things that they do to help make my life easier so that I may enjoy each day to the fullest. I love them all more than I could ever say and consider myself very blessed. I am not in this alone.

I want to live
For the bright smiles of my grandchildren
For sweet kisses and warm hugs
For the music of their laughter
For the perfect love in their hearts

I want to live
For the love of my daughters
For the joy and pleasure they bring to me
For everything we are and have been
For the perfect love in their hearts

I want to live
For the beauty of family
For a place of belonging worth waiting for
For the gift of having a home
With a perfect love in its heart

I want to live
For the precious gift of friendship
For the ones who have shared the ride
For those who have touched my life
With a perfect love in their hearts

I want to live
For the love of my husband
For the light in his eyes, his tender touch
For all that we are and all that we have
With a perfect love in our hearts

Family, Birthdays and Viking Games

2007-08-14T05:30:00.000-04:00

On Saturday we had a collective birthday party; mine, my husband's, who's birthday is today and his daughter's, Angela, who's birthday was last week. We had enough delectable food to feed a platoon and our laughter echoed through the Black River Valley from early afternoon until dark. The only person missing from these festivities was my grandson, Alex. He had organized a band concert at the skate park to raise money for park improvement and was busy organizing and performing.

That takes care of family and birthdays but I bet you are wondering about those Viking games, aren't you? My son-in-law, Rick, is responsible for that part of our fun. The game is called Kuub (no guarantee on the spelling) and involves everyone. We divide into two teams and rectangular blocks are lined up in front of each team, team one's blocks in front of team two and vice versa. The king is placed in the center. Batons are issued to the starting team and the object is to knock your blocks down. It's way more involved than this but there is no need to bore you with details, better I should tell you that there is much yelling and hand slapping, and enthusiastic Viking roars can be heard for miles. I referee.

Now for an explanation of photos: the following is Will's aunt Skip, our family matriarch and all-around good sport. At the age of 82, she still participates in our games and hilarity. Woo hoo aunt Skip!

This next picture is me with Sarah and Paige. My recently, enthusiastically highlighted hair was done by my daughter Deb and has been voted by the family, a success.

And here is team A lined up for a game of Kuub.

The man in the hat is my husband, the one in the dark shirt is Scott, his daughter's husband, the blue shirt is his cousin Michael and in the white shirt, Shawn, his son.

And this is Shawn's son, Ryan.

Here we have little Ryan's mom, Jacqui with their daughter Emily, sitting with Will's daughter, Angela.

And last, but not least, my daughter Laura on the far right,daughter Debbie and son-in-law, Debbie's husband, Rick.

Below that,Shawn and Jacqui's cats, Rascal and Bubbles

65

2007-08-10T06:33:00.000-04:00

Today is my 65th birthday and although I know 65 is no longer old, it's time enough to have an endless stream of memories. Memories that, as anyone who is getting older knows, pop into your head at the strangest times and without provocation. Following, are a few of mine.

I remember television when it was relatively new. I watched old black-and-white cartoons; one that comes to mind is Steamboat Willie starring the original Mickey Mouse. The next shows I remember watching are Roy Rogers, Fury, Hopalong Cassidy, Buck Rogers and in later years, the Mickey Mouse club. A special treat was watching the magic of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers tripping the light fantastic, and who could forget I Love Lucy?

I recall clunky black phones with party lines; they have morphed into slim cordless cells that play music. Cars the size of hippos, that were easy and inexpensive to repair, have slimmed down and lightened up and put you into debt every time you go to the garage.

I was born during World War II, have lived through many wars and protested one. Make that two, I still have some protest left in me.

I have seen a man walk on the moon, pictures of our universe that have changed the way we think and the computer age change the way we communicate.

I am proud to say that I was on the front lines of the women's movement, and although we have a ways to go in some areas, we have accomplished a lot. As have African Americans. I know that hate and prejudice for those who are different still motivates many to behave with cruelty and even violence; ignorant, mean people will always be part of the human condition. But over time many have listened to the voice of reason and we are doing better.

Over the years, like everyone else, I have had my share of joys and sorrows, successes and failures. Friends have come and gone and some have stayed, I have lost at love on the way to my husband, Will, and I have lost one family only to gain another. All in all, it's been a hell of a ride so far and I will be grateful always for the gift of memory.

On Going To Camp

2007-08-07T15:04:00.000-04:00

Like everyone else, I'm rather tired of the heat and humidity. I love summer and I certainly don't want to wish my days away, God knows. But with ALS, the hot sticky weather is very debilitating and I've had to stay inside with the AC running for days on end. And even with the monotonous drone of the air conditioner filling our days, that nasty, thick air works it's evil and saps my strength.

I am, by nature, a fairly even tempered individual. A glass half full kind of person. BUT, after suffering through an intestinal bug, on top of the insufferable weather last week, by Saturday I was some kind of fed up and cranky! I was ready to fire up the Batchair and run over the first person who crossed my path.

Blessedly, by Sunday, the air had changed and we were given the gift of a crystal-clear, crisp and moderately tempered Vermont summer day. Knowing how much I needed a change, my dear husband suggested that we go to camp. So, doing our imitation of the Clampetts, we packed all my necessary gear into the back of the Subaru and headed to Eagleshead Mountain.

It was the most incredible day. The sky was a vibrant shade of robin's egg blue, the deep greens of high summer glistened under a lemon sun, trees danced to the rhythm of a gentle breeze and all was well in my world. While my husband mowed the lawn, I basked in the day, breathing in the sweet fragrance of freshly mown grass as I watched two red tail hawks circling above.

I read for a while and when my husband was done we indulged in pleasant conversation and companionable silences as we listened to the sighing, whispering wind, the rattle and creak of branch against branch and the piercing call of the hawks

I came home calm and renewed.

Sisters - Renewed Relationships

2007-08-01T09:23:00.000-04:00

I am the oldest of five children by quite a few years. I'm older than my brother by six years, my sister by ten years, and my half-sisters, identical twins, by seventeen years. I don't wish to be melodramatic, but need to say by way of history, that our childhood, lived in upper middle-class America, was an existence set in comfort but steeped in evil.

Raised by a mother who was, among other things, a sociopath, we grew up in a vortex of rage and abuse. Our fathers, who were of the generation of men who believed that raising children was women's work, were either physically or mentally absent from the arena.

I adored my young siblings but over time the combination of maternal propaganda, aimed at keeping us from being close, and the differences in our ages drove us apart.

It has been almost twenty years since I have seen any of them and my brother is lost to me, probably forever. Possibly one of the twins, also. But in early spring a miracle happened and my sister, the other twin, got in touch with me and came to see me. Part of the reason she came was because she was in hopes that I would have some information about our mother that might help her twin through a bad time. The other reason she came was to get to know me

It turned out to be a joyous reunion, myths were dispelled and love and friendship bloomed. It wasn't long before my sister, the one who is ten years younger, made the same trip with the same results.

They have come to visit a number of times since the initial get together, a lengthy journey for them both, and I finally understand the joy of sisterhood that my daughters have always shared. They help me fight my battle with love and constant support and have changed my life in immeasurable ways. Their love is gentle and kind, their hearts huge and they are both incredible women. What's more,I get to shower them with the love I have held in my heart for them all these years.

Time

2007-07-29T13:36:00.000-04:00

Like the steady pulse of the sea
Time flows inexorably onward
Moving with the rhythm of the universe
A steady beat of forward motion

Minutes become days
Years turn into centuries
With a power that is absolute
We are at its mercy

Fight time and you will be thrown upon its sands
A hollow, broken shell
Embrace it, and you will float upon its currents
Reveling in life to the end

Thank you, Anvilcloud, for permitting me to use another one of your photos as an idea for a painting.

While I'm learning...

2007-07-18T11:25:00.000-04:00

Just saying "Hi!" My Dragon has arrived...yeowza...and I'm in training. It will take a little while, but I'm getting there.

About the hand...I can't wave anymore, my hands flop over, so...the above has been printed out life size, my friend, Lolly, will affix it to a stick for me and, drum roll, a wave!

And for those of you who have urged me to dig back into my archives, I thought the following seemed appropriate, given the general attitude towards our government these sad and troubling days.

CAPITOL HILL

As elections draw near and it's all rhetoric

My thoughts often dwell on the world politic

I think of the folks up on capitol hill

And know what they're passing is seldom a Bill

Fast words and loud speeches, all promise and sass

Ring false for it seems that they're just passing gas

And when they foul up or run out of blind luck

How swift they've become at passing the buck

When caught in dark closets their affairs bear no shame

The issue is sidestepped by a quick pass of blame

When dressed in their finest they shmooze at a bash

While with deft slight of hand they're maneuvering cash

Come the day designated I'm right there to vote

But my faith in the outcome is becoming remote

Past Post

2007-07-17T06:37:00.000-04:00

Cathy, over at 'Looking Up' perused my blog and found this poem from my first month of blogging. She liked it (thank you, Cathy, who placed third in the Frost 2006, woo hoo!) and encouraged me to post it again.

So while I await my Dragon, here's something from the past.

Shadows lengthen
Nights grow long
Early warnings
Winter's song
~
Dusk comes early
Days grow cold
The changing winds
Harsh and bold
~
Yet beauty reigns
With morning light
A brilliant shimmer
Mantle white

Another Kind of Dragon

2007-07-13T08:28:00.000-04:00

Before I explain the dragon, I want to thank everyone for your support and caring...you guys are nothing short of awesome!

Now the dragon...it's the name of a voice activated, typing software product. We are in the process of purchasing a Dragon for me so that I may get back to blogging, commenting in more than a few, short words and my e-mail, without having to struggle. We have assistance in this endeavor, but that's another story and will be told when my Dragon breaths some fire into my hands and fingers. Hint...it's about lost sisters, newly discovered. Ooooooooh, aaaaaaaah!

Bless you all!

To Tammy, The Daily Warrior; Your poem, so filled with compassion and your indomitable spirit, has touched me deeply, thank you. Yup, I cried.

Thank You

2007-07-06T06:08:00.000-04:00

I wanted to thank everyone personally for your kind and thoughtful comments on my post to Sarah, but I'm having a bit of a rough time at the moment. I'm not up to a lot of typing, so will say, for now, how much you have all come to mean to me and that my days wouldn't be as good as they are without you! Cheers to our blogging community!

Special thanks to Tammy (Robin) for calling and helping me through, she understands in a way no one else can. And thanks to my family, who's support is constant and true and who provide a safety net of assistance and love.

I know how difficult this all is for my precious daughters, who always used to tease me about my over abundance of energy. They are amazing women and I hope they know how proud of them I am.

As everyone knows, my grandchildren are the light in my life. They are fine, grounded children who are never daunted by our trials and share an energy and joy of living with me that is so powerful, it is a force to draw from.

And Will, who has had to leave work a number of times to come home and help. As difficult as it is, he carries on and tries hard to assuage my fears.

And to friends, thanks for your calls and your willingness to help, you are a blessing.

There is very much ahead of me that is good, this is a temporary set back, and I continue to fight to get the most out of each day. We simply have an adjustment to make and some changes; a bit of help is now needed, and when we solve that issue, we will be back on track. I am still doing better than was ever expected and intend to continue doing so.

We are trying to get some assistance in getting someone in to help, but you all know what government red tape is like, so, for now, we will take it a day at a time.

I hope to be back blogging next week; in the meantime, have a good weekend and...THANK YOU!

Pam (Batman)

Thank you, Sarah

2007-07-01T10:26:00.000-04:00

I had a frightening and bizarre accident last week while Sarah was visiting for a few days and I would like to thank, and commend her, on her cool head in the face of misadventure.

The temperature here hit 96 degrees last Wednesday, the barometer dropped, the humidity was very high and the dew point was unbearable. This kind of weather is debilitating for someone with ALS, and the strength I do have deserted me in the face of air that felt more like water. I knew, the night before, that I wasn't right, but the full extent of my difficulties didn't come to bear until the next morning.

I am, usually, still capable of easing myself up and shifting my body from one chair to another. It takes a bit to do it, but I manage. Thursday morning, when I went into the bathroom to use the commode, I found that I could not get up. Four tries later I was still stuck in the Batchair, but unwilling to cry uncle. On the fifth try, my legs gave out and I fell. The good news is that my rear found purchase on the edge of the Batchair...the bad news is that, to quote my dear friend, Tammy, I did a faceplant in the can. The seat is a high rise handicapped rig so my face had a little height, thank God, but my arms were folded under me and I could not move.

I called to Sarah, who came in and carefully lifted me to an upright position. She didn't balk, stayed cool and saved the day. I was most impressed with her calm under fire. We then called Will and he came home from work to help me for the rest of the day and Friday. I am just now starting to manage on my own again.

Tammy has officially dubbed her Batgirl, and I concur! Oh, and Will got us an air conditioner.

Ancient Ones

2007-06-26T14:05:00.000-04:00

I would like to thank Anvilcloud at 'Raindrops' for letting me use his stunning photo of an ancient, weathered tree for this painting.

Confessions

2007-06-25T07:28:00.000-04:00

Pepek, at ‘My Uncle Pepek’s Jounral’ tapped me on the shoulder for this one and I thought I’d give it a go. It's my first.

The rules come first:

1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.

2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their 8 things and post these rules.

3. List 8 people you choose to tag.

4. Leave them a comment telling them they're tagged and to read your blog.

OK, here goes…

1. I was a card carrying, fringe and bead wearing, protesting hippie in the sixties. No hard drugs for this chick, however, I’m allergic to caffeine, for heaven’s sake!
2. In sixty five years I have moved more than thirty times. I have a bit of Gypsy in my soul, but it was usually for other reasons, and no, I was not on the lam.
3. I have been drawing since I was very young. I hid in my closet and drew fanciful stories when the home front went to war.
4. I love to dance and took many styles of dance classes, but, alas, I was too short to try for a career.
5. My favorite footwear has always been western boots.
6. I ran for many years and preferred to run barefoot and at night. I liked to dance as I ran and the dark made for good cover…didn’t want anyone to think I was nuts as I gyrated and bopped along.
7. I have very little gray hair, it runs in the family. Our Holland Dutch heritage, we presume. What’s funny is that I’d love some white mixed in…I’ve earned it!
8. My favorite food group is…Nachos! Hold the beans (ugh) and throw on the black olives!

I am passing this on to: Tammy, my lovely partner at 'The Daily Warrior.' Ginnie, who has the most delightful stories, at 'Goldendaze-Ginnie.' Mama P, who's take on life delights me, at 'Pass the Zoloft.' Caroline, who's drawings and stories are captivating, at "Potato Prints.' Chani, who's posts challenge our every day thinking, at 'Thailand Gal.' Laurie, who's depth of feeling and kindness have touched me deeply, at 'Don't MAKE ME get my Flying Monkeys.' Bonita, who takes us on the most awesome trips, at 'Flitzy Phoebie.' And Kate, who's garden grows in her yard as well as her heart at 'Kate Smudges.'

Have Fun!

Summer Solstice

2007-06-21T06:51:00.000-04:00

Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year and the day Will and I married, sixteen years ago. We had both recovered from failed marriages when we started dating and had known each other casually for some time. We started out as grand friends and from there love blossomed into a strong and lasting relationship.

We share a great sense of humor and laugh often, even through the difficult times. We work and play well together and love to sit and discuss the world around us at days end. He is emotionally reserved, I am excitable and open; we make it work.

We have always carried the load of work and home together until these last three years and now, with ALS in our life, he has taken it all on alone. He also cares for me, helping me dress, wash and eat and even in this we find laughter in the quirky things that can happen.

As I have said, my husband and family help me keep strong in my fight to win, but on this day I want to thank my husband for all we've had and all we will have.

I love you, Will!

Grandchildren Revisited

2007-06-18T15:09:00.000-04:00

It's been awhile since I wrote about my incredible grandchildren, so I thought I'd bring you up to date. I'm starting with the girls and working down by age.

Paige is thirteen, the tallest woman in the family (this is relevant because our ladies are all VERY short and we find amusement in this fact) and is a very accomplished writer. She is writing a book, eight chapters completed, and it is nothing short of amazing. Yes, I am prejudiced, but the vote is in from many adults, including teachers.

Sarah, twelve, wants to be a fashion designer and has created, on the computer, some excellent designs. She has a definite flair for color and interesting combinations, and accessorizes with pizazz. She is learning Photoshop to give her a head start on the tech side of creating.

Emily is eight and loves to cook, is learning to play keyboard (she plays quite well) and is also on a baseball team. She's still young and is exploring her options. I say chef, but time will tell. She is most enthusiastic and will excel in whatever direction she chooses.

Alex is fifteen and has formed his second band, his instrument being the drums. He practices often and hard and is quite accomplished. The band recently played in a concert to raise money for the people in Darfur.

Hey, maybe Em will play keyboard with him one day!

Last, but not least, is Ryan, now three. He runs around being Batman, more often Spiderman, and if you pass too close you are liable to end up in a Spidey net! He's funny, as they all are, and keeps up with the gang when we are all together.

They are the most wonderful children; they are kind, honest, involved in the world around them and full of life. They are at ease with my illness and quick to help if I need them.

Thank you Big Al, Doodlebug, Shortcake, The Emster and The Ry Guy, for the love and light you bring into my life!

Love, Mimi

Solution

2007-06-13T06:07:00.000-04:00

Our planet's weather has always fascinated me, from soft summer breezes and high, wispy clouds to the violent beauty of it's storms. I follow the weather religiously, which led me to the fact that we have had twice as many tornadoes so far this season than is normal.

Tornadoes have a stunning power that mesmerizes while they tear across the land leaving devastation is their wake, and I couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't some good use for all that raging energy. And then it hit me...a solution for a major problem.

Thought Process

2007-06-05T08:15:00.001-04:00

A place of wonder is the mind

A record of life lived

Down to the last detail

Remembered or not

A place of light

Where ideas bloom

Music is composed

Art is created and words born

A pit of darkness

Where terror threatens

Panic lurks

Our monsters hide

Emotions flow from it's depths

Love consumes

Fear paralyzes

Peace liberates

Others are touched by our thoughts

As we move through time

But in our minds

We live alone

The Swimming Hole

2007-06-03T10:48:00.000-04:00

Summer days, yellow hot and still
Warm the forest floor
Steep, narrow paths, like tentacles
Reach to the brook below

The ground, dappled with light
Gives way to the rushing stream and frigid pools
Sun baked rocks and deep shadows
Embrace dark green water

The hum of darting insects
Fills the dense air
As clothes are flung to the ground
And the body offered to silken depths

The Boys in the Band

2007-05-29T07:31:00.001-04:00

Three of the boys in my grandson's band are graduating this season and moving on with their lives. His Mom, at whose home the boys practiced and who had the privilege (and courage) of hearing them go from noise to good music, asked me to make some special cards for her to give them at graduation. My taste in music has mellowed with age and I had to look back a bit to see if I could come up with the right image for young musicians of today. She says I succeeded.

Cross Country Ramble

2007-05-25T05:50:00.000-04:00

I was reading my old journals the other day and one shot me back in time to twenty years ago, to a trip taken in an effort to heal a troubled soul and mend a broken heart. I was trying to work my way through a life changing and painful time and decided I needed to do something just for me, something that required enough courage to give me a feeling of strength and confidence. I decided to take a two month sabbatical and wander across the country, landing in Tucson, Arizona, where my father and stepmother lived. There I would spend six weeks getting to know if there was hope for a relationship with a man who had been driven from my life at the age of fourteen.

Since this is about the trip, I will tell you here that my father and I found truth and love and were very close until the day he died. And my stepmother, Mom to me since that trip, took the place in my life that was formerly held by a sociopath. As for the broken heart, as everyone knows, it takes more than a few months to recover from one of those, but I was headed in the right direction.

So, I had my car tuned up, collected maps from AAA, packed, grabbed my guitar and headed out across the land.

I headed south through Massachusetts, Connecticut and so on, visiting a sister along the way, then took my time cruising along The Skyline drive in the Blue Ridge Mt's. of Virginia. Beautiful vistas greeted me at every turn and I spotted many deer munching lush green growth as I traveled along. And there were thousands of delicate white butterflies, gathering at pools of water left by a passing storm.

Next, I rambled through the Great Smokies, magnificent, hazy, blue green mountains that seemed to go on forever. It was my first experience driving through small tunnels bored into the sides of mountains as I made my accent, and the views along the way were breathtaking. At the end of the day I headed down out of the mountains on a road that landed me on a strip of road that was wall to wall amusement parks, starting with Dollywood. I drove on to Nashville.

On through Arkansas, across Oklahoma and the panhandle of Texas, which is where I saw my first cattle yards...and smelled them! Next, New Mexico where, for some of the ride, I traveled along not too far from the Rio Grande, a ribbon of water with the only green for miles, along its banks. At every place I stayed I met the most interesting people and we shared stories of life in different parts of the country. A couple of people I met had never heard of Vermont.

After two weeks of meandering, I landed in Tucson. My parent's home is only two miles from the Catalina Mt's. which rise to nine thousand feet. While I was there I packed some food, a gallon of water and followed the above trail into the range for about three miles and climbed three thousand feet up. It was wonderful. The terrain, so different from home, offered many kinds of cacti, flowers and scrubby trees along with a prolific collection of wild life. Roadrunners, wild donkeys, havalina and jack rabbits were easy to spot. There were places where the going was a bit precarious, but what's an adventure with out a little excitement?

The last week of my visit, my daughters flew in to join us and we all went on a road trip together. We traveled north and took in so many incredible sights that I was dizzy from sensory overload. We visited Montezuma's castle, an ancient Indian dwelling carved high in the side of a cliff and drove down through Oak Creek Canyon into Sedona, the most spectacular red rock country anywhere. We went to Flagstaff, Ponderosa Pine country, then on to the Grand Canyon. I have seen the canyon four times in my life and the wonder and beauty of it never ceases to take my breath away!

Back to Tucson, a night's rest, a tearful good by, and my girls and I headed back home by way of Colorado, Kansas (no twisters) an on. It was one of the best times of my life and the memory is sharp and clear.

A few years later my husband and I took a trip across the land...adventurous, fun and romantic, but that's another story...

Heritage

2007-05-22T06:26:00.000-04:00

My husband's family, on his mother's side, is English and came to America on the Mayflower. His mother's sister, Dorothy (Aunt Skip to us) recently completed many years of research and writing to record their fascinating history in her book "From the Mayflower to Greenbush."

Because I was so impressed with the identity of some of his distant relatives I thought I'd share the fact that Will and his family are related to John Alden and Priscilla Mullins and that he is a fourteenth cousin to Abraham Lincoln.

I am all the more impressed because my family tree is an enigma, our ancestors were never discussed or named as I was growing up. There were allusions to land barons on my grandfather's side of the family, who lost everything during the great depression and I met, a few times, my Great Aunt Mable, an extraordinary artist who, at a time when women artists were rarely recognized, had her work hung in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC.

I don't think it's imperative that we know who all our relatives are, but the gene pool runs deep and it would be interesting to know who's in our own personal soup. And there is the fact of history, the inescapable trail of events peopled by those who came before us.

Stories of the Sea,The Hopeful and The Ludicrous

2007-05-21T07:53:00.000-04:00

On Sunday the two humpback whales, Delta and Dawn, started on their return journey from Sacramento to the Pacific, following a deep water shipping channel from the Port of Sacramento.

They are swimming toward the Pacific nearly a week after taking a wrong turn and swimming inland to the state capital. The whales still have “a long way to go and obstacles to overcome. There are sloughs leading to muddy deltas that could trap the injured whales, which appear to have been wounded by a ship's propeller,” officials said. However, their injuries do not seem to be serious and they will have help all along the way.

I’m always captured by stories of animals in distress and the efforts made to save them, getting emotionally involved to the end which can result in cheers or tears.

If you watched 60 Minutes last night, you saw the following story. I am quoting just enough of it here to share with you the mind boggling incompetence and, I would guess, greed and dishonesty that we have to cope with and pay for.

“Five years ago the Coast Guard undertook a massive modernization program called 'Deepwater' and ended up way over its head. The $24 billion project has turned into a fiasco that has set new standards for incompetence, and triggered a justice department investigation.

You can begin with the fact that the Coast Guard spent nearly $100 million to ruin eight patrol boats. The plan was to take the aging workhorses of the fleet, the 110-foot Island Class patrol boats, and lengthen them by 13 feet, adding a launch ramp for small inflatable boats and expanding the superstructure. But something went drastically wrong at the Bollinger Shipyard near New Orleans, where the first eight boats were extended.

After just a few weeks on the water, all eight boats experienced severe structural problems and had to be pulled out of service. They are currently tied up at a pier at the Coast Guard’s Baltimore yard waiting to be decommissioned. Their problems, the Coast Guard says, are too serious to be fixed.”

There is more, there always is, but I thought this sufficient to stoke the fires of outrage.

A sidebar...My husband and I were watching an old 1930's John Wayne Film this weekend where the good guys were fighting the bad guys in an effort to allow the town folk to vote their territory into statehood. Now the following may not be an exact quote, it was a cowboy movie, after all, and my attention can wander during a shoot 'em up, but you'll get what got me. The heroine, who ran a printing press and was getting ready to print her paper, turned to an old townie and said, "We're fighting for honesty and integrity," to which the old coot replied "What's that got to do with politics ?" The more some things change, the more they stay the same.

Simple Pleasures

2007-05-17T07:28:00.000-04:00

Do you recognize this house? Most everyone does, it's the Walton's home from the show of the same name. That's me standing on the porch.

I hear friends and acquaintances of my generation complain about "the kids today" and how times have changed for the worse. I've been thinking about this a lot since it's been the cry of every aging generation. Most of us have heard our grandparents and parents talk of the changes wrought by the young folk of their time, sometimes in anger, sometimes in confusion and sometimes in appreciation. Remember the furor brought on by Elvis? As we age and as the world around us changes, we often resist. We find new ways and technologies difficult to understand as well as the youth that embraces them.

But life IS change, sometimes for the better, at times, not. What sticks with me now and worries me is that something fundamental and important seems to be changing and this change has a dark side. Our population appears to be in a head long rush to do everything, to have everything at breakneck speed, with no time for the simple pleasures of living or regard for what's left behind. "I was going to: play with my kids, call, visit, stop and smell the roses, let the people I love know how I feel about them, help... but I've been too busy," seems to be the mantra of the day for many. In the wake of our dash forward we are leaving a legacy of lost moments behind, time that can never be made up.

I'm all for progress and change but not at the expense of our children, our families and friends or the home of beauty and wonder we all share, earth.

Just Right

2007-05-14T17:53:00.000-04:00

I have been using a lift chair for almost a year to make it possible for me to stand and move to my power chair without assistance. The chair I have been using was lent to me by the very generous mother of a friend. I am eternally grateful since working with our insurance company and the MDA/ALS association to get one of my own has been a slow and tedious process.

The problem, besides waiting, is that said chair is very old and rather uncomfortable and with the discomforts of ALS, this was becoming an issue. Then something totally unexpected happened, a chair was purchased for me by someone I hadn't had contact with for a very long time. Flabbergasted is the appropriate word for my reaction. And, of course, thankful beyond words.

I am now sitting in a top of the line lift chair that vibrates and heats, and the back rest and foot rest move independently from one another so there are infinite positions to help keep muscles from cramping and skin from getting sore.

What keeps running through my mind is this...

The first chair was tooooo hard,
the second chair was tooooo soft,
but this one is juuust right!"

Sure, I'm way too old to be Goldilocks, but if the chair fits...

A Mixed Bag

2007-05-12T06:38:00.000-04:00

First, I would like to introduce you to the newest member of my husband's son's family, Zach. Because our family is so close he will, of course, end up being a big part of all our lives. He is being held by Emily.

Next: Laurie, Don't MAKE Me Get My Flying Monkeys, has nominated me for a Thinking Blogger Award. My first reaction was "who, me?" but I am very touched and honored. Like many, I don't handle complements very well but am always very pleased to receive them.

I am now supposed to nominate five bloggers from my blog roll for this honor. However, after much thought, I find I cannot choose. I have kept my blogging community small since typing is difficult and commenting important to me, and I like to take the time to know each person and savor these new relationships. The people who's blogs I visit have all touched me deeply with their intelligence, humor, insight and vision. They have all become part of my life and help me to stay strong and positive.

To Tammy, The Daily Warrior, my dear friend and fellow warrior against ALS, I say thanks for introducing me to blogging and encouraging me to set up a site. And to Laurie, my fellow conservationist and new friend, Thank you for the nomination.

Finally: My friend, Carol, who dislikes our Pres and the vice pres as much as I do, gave me a "Backward Bush." It is a credit card size clock with a picture of Bush, looking stupid, on it and the clock in the corner counting down the days, hours, minutes and seconds until we are free of them and all they stand for. I love it but worry when I see how much time they have left.

Happy Mother's Day

2007-05-10T11:44:00.000-04:00

Children are funny, uninhibited, irreverent, free with their affections and opinions, genuine and playful. May the child in you be alive and well.

Happy Mother's Day!

Power Chair Mishaps or, Beware the Chair!

2007-05-03T13:35:00.000-04:00

You've all seen those power chair adds where everyone is tooling smoothly along with nary a mishap, right? Lies, all lies! They have been neatly choreographed, the maneuvers diligently rehearsed and my guess on takes would be about twenty. Now I will tell you the rest of the story. Power chairs are awesome, there is no doubt about it, but getting the hang of handling one is a challenge, at best. I've been using one for nearly a year and still find myself in awkward, and sometimes hilarious situations.

I'll start with speed. My chair has five speeds forward, one being a crawl and five powering me up to the equivalent of speed walking. Reverse is slow but relative to my forward motion. I usually power around the house on three, comfortable enough to feel safe, usually, but fast enough to make me feel like I'm getting somewhere. The problem here is judgement, which also raises another problem, spacial awareness.

Suffice it to say that all our door jambs are missing paint at the level of my bumpers, our kitchen cabinets have an artistic looking collection of long scuffs where I missed turning on that proverbial dime, and I managed to shear the knob off a drawer with the arm of the chair. In my own defence, our home is old, small, maneuvering is tricky, and most damage was incurred early on, which brings me to...

Backing up. I have backed into chairs, tables and footstools, succeeding in rearranging much of our furniture. Let me state here that I was a very good driver, really! My husband, who is also a good driver and can make driving a bulldozer look like child's play, thought I was being careless and decided to teach me a lesson. He hopped into my chair, turned, and with a look of male superiority, drove smack into the phone table. He no longer picks on me.

But the best was the day I was headed out of doors to sit in the sun and read. I had managed to get the door open and the chair aimed for the first ramp onto the porch, ready to roll. What I neglected to notice was that I had inadvertently hit the speed button which was now reading five. I grabbed the joy stick and, to my horror and surprise, my chair and I shot through the door like a rocket, down the ramp, onto the porch and on down the second ramp into the yard before I ever knew what was happening. After the wave of adrenalin and fear wore off, the full picture of what I must have looked like registered and I dissolved into fits of laughter.

Cars I Have Known and Loved

2007-05-02T13:33:00.000-04:00

After I left and divorced the bad boy and my children and I had found a place to live, we needed a car and money was in very short supply. For some time we relied on our Radio Flyer (old post) but eventually life and work required transportation with a motor. We ended up with a beaten up, old, black, VW beetle that ran, it seemed, on two cylinders. It did pretty good for about a month but then refused to start. As anyone who has ever owned one of those old bugs knows, they are rather easy to jump start, two mph usually does it. So we resorted to parking on hills whenever possible and when we could not...well, the kids pushed and I jumped it. I know what that sounds like in toady's world, but times were different then and we had few choices. And, we thought it was a hoot.

Oddly enough, that old wreck carried us around for quite sometime. We owned another one just like it in another place and time and it ran quite well but had a faulty heater. We carried army blankets and a spatula to scrape the inside of the windows when they frosted, and on very cold days we used candles on the open glove box door to warm the interior before we embarked on the days journeys.

Then there was the old Nash Rambler wagon (remember those?) which needed a spray of ether in the carburetor to get it going...and next, the VW wagon. The VW Wagon was memorable because, as we were tooling along one day, the battery fell through a hole in the floor. Miraculously, it didn't break or disconnect (we weren't going very fast at the time) and we managed to save it by placing it on a couple of two by sixes. And on and on we went.

Never did we feel that we were missing anything, to us it was an adventure and the norm. We did the best we could with what we had and found fun at every turn. We still do.

Avast, Me Hearties

2007-04-30T08:26:00.000-04:00

Back in my kayaking days two very good friends of mine, Susan and Kathy, were often my companions on the rivers and ponds of Vermont. The Williams River was a good choice for twists, turns and mild rapids, the Connecticut was chosen for day long trips with many stops for cheese, crackers, sweet summer fruit, water and the occasional beer. We often managed ten miles or more, paddling downriver on slow, lazy currants, pleasant conversation and laughter mingling with the splash of paddles and birdsong.

From the day I first launched my boat into green waters I swore that I was going to make and attach a pirate flag to my kayak and jokes were made about pillaging and plunder as we paddled our way through the warm, fragrant summers. Every spring I'd swear that that year would be the one when my promised flag would appear, but I never did get around to it.

And then, this last weekend, Susan and her husband came down for a visit on their return from a weeks vacation on an island off the coast of Florida (shared with Kathy and her husband) with a very unusual gift. A pirate flag! She and Kathy had come across it while shopping and could not resist. It will adorn both my power chair and wheelchair at every outing, warning all who pass that I am a force to be reckoned with.

Shiver me timbers! Aarrrr!

Dabbling and Work

2007-04-23T05:55:00.001-04:00

I enjoy working and have worked most of my life, admittedly not liking all jobs. Having left college after one year to marry a bad boy by way of running away from home (oy) my career as an artist was put on hold. The subsequent birth of my first daughter 14 months later and the birth of my second daughter 14 months after that, made up for the the bad boy but kept me too busy to concentrate on art.

In time, after said boy had had a few girlfriends, I smartened up and sent him packing. I was now alone with two small girls, no skills (art seldom pays the bills) and little knowledge of how to survive. Sans a career, I took on jobs and did everything from babysitting, to working key punch, to helping run a stable, to retail sales, to wood working, to...well, you get the idea.

To make ends meet I painted the occasional mural, sold the occasional painting, made signs and cut hair. Life moved on, jobs came and went and my beautiful daughters grew up to be amazing women.

Work still took up much of my life but I now had time to focus on the work I loved most, my art. My career began to take shape as my artwork was accepted in shows and I was commissioned for paintings and drawings. It was a quiet career but enormously satisfying since I am happiest and most fulfilled when I am creating.

With the onset of ALS everything changed and I was terribly lost. The obvious aside, I was devastated by what seemed to be the loss of my ability to express my artistic visions. My mind, filled with images, color, light and emotion with no way to express all I saw and felt, refused to accept this finality.

I had been trying to learn to use the computer as a new tool and aid and realized that I would now have to rely, totally, on this daunting technology (I am fairly new to the world of computers) if I wished to continue with my art. I have a lot to learn still, but am pleased with the results up to this point and am very happy that my "mind trips" were not forever silenced.

My dearest friend, Lolly, a fine artist in her own right, suggested that I take my computer dabbling and start a line of greeting cards. With her help with cutting and assembling, I am going to use my computer art to do just that. It will feel good to get back to work, giving my days direction and purpose.

Tragedy

2007-04-17T09:31:00.000-04:00

The shootings at Virginia Tech have, as all the school massacres that have come before, shocked and saddened us all. It is difficult to understand such a tragedy in a civilized society. Our world is changing and although I realize that many of those changes are of a positive nature, there is a decided breakdown in morality and a lack of responsibility for one's actions.

On the streets and in our homes, manners, respect and civility are on the decline. Violence, however, is on the incline from the media to life, desensitizing our youth to its consequences and we are paying a high price. From the young girl who called my daughter an effing bitch when she glanced in the girl's direction to teens beating one another and placing a video of the attack on YouTube, to murder.

I posted a poem on this emotional subject some time ago.I am posting it again in honor of souls lost and with hope for a better future for our children.

When I look back I remember the day
When children preferred to go out to play

We ran through fields and climbed up trees
Tumbling, rolling and scraping knees

Home for dinner, our family as one
Back out until dark, deep shadows were fun

No computer games, we explored outside
And bikes, not cars, were the way to ride

No fear of strangers, it was safe out there
We hollered and laughed without a care

No locked down schools, no people to dread
A wild night meant sneaking out after bed

Free expression back then was creative and fun
Not a kid full of rage at the end of a gun

Remembering

2007-04-14T11:50:00.000-04:00

I ride the rolling waves

Out on deep, blue water

Muscles taught with effort

At one with the sea

Foam splashes on burnt skin

Sweet sting of salt

The power of nature, the beauty

Surround me

Warm sand turned gold

In the setting sun

A textured caress on my body

Life fills me

I am alone on my beach

The incoming tide

Teases my boat, waves hissing

As they pull back

I belong here, breathing, drawing in

The rich aroma of sea air

Listening to the call of gulls

They bid my return

Rilke

2007-04-13T07:34:00.000-04:00

You see, I want a lot.
Perhaps I want everything:
The darkness that comes with every infinite fall
And the shivering blaze of every step up.

So many live on and want nothing,
And are raised to the rank of prince
By the slippery ease of their light judgments.

But what you love to see are faces
That do work and feel thirst.

You love most of all those who need you
As they need a crowbar or a hoe.

You have not grown old, and it is not too late
To dive into your increasing depths
Where life calmly gives out its own secret.

Rilke

White Easter

2007-04-07T11:35:00.000-04:00

The following pictures were created from photos I took in the early morning hours after a recent spring snow storm. I snapped them while the blue cast of new light on snow still lingered in the air and drew me to my windows. Welcome to April in the mountains.

The snow has fallen from the trees but the cold lingers and the ground remains white. Warm days elude us and the sun continues to hide behind stubborn clouds. But as my family gathers for our Easter celebration we will revel in the warmth of love, ever thankful for one another.

Happy Easter to those who celebrate, peace and love to all.

On Diet

2007-04-05T12:38:00.000-04:00

I have read so many blogs about diet and how it affects our lives that I feel the need to write about what I have learned, first hand, and hope that this knowledge might help someone else.

We have become a society of fast food junkies. Whether we buy it at a take out establishment or in boxes and jars at the super market, we are still depriving ourselves of what we need and eating junk and poison. The worst of it is, the junk is cheap while the good, nutritious foods can be expensive, further encouraging us to mistreat our bodies.

Although I was never the worst offender, I had my moments. That all changed in my 48th year when I was diagnosed with Macular Degeneration, a leading cause of blindness in the elderly. I started young. At the same time, I was also diagnosed with Toxoplasmosis, a parasitic disease that usually only affects the eyes if the immune system is intact. Without a good immune defence, it can wreak havoc. Facing potential blindness, I did a lot of research and discovered that a diet rich in antioxidants could be a strong weapon against that end. Yup, those fruits and veggies.

So I started eating my five servings a day and then some, plus a few supplements. For a time my eyesight continued to deteriorate, but then something exciting happened. It stopped. Now, at almost 65, I see much better than was expected and the vision in my right eye has actually improved a little.

To take this even further, when I was diagnosed with ALS two years ago (symptomatic, three years) I extended my research. This time around I learned about the debilitating effects of chemical additives. When I really started to pay attention to what was in our food and water, I changed my diet once again. Eliminating as many of the preservatives, hormones, heavy metals and dyes as possible and increasing my antioxidant supplements has clearly made a difference. Once again, I am fairing better than was expected.

Not only am I doing better, but it is easier to control the depression that is part of having ALS without having to rely on any drugs, which have their place, but can also be toxic. The old adage "you are what you eat" is closer to the truth than many realize. Attitude is a huge part of how we do and our attitudes need veggies, too.

Good health to all.

Night Sounds and Miracles

2007-04-02T19:08:00.000-04:00

Two years ago this coming May, feeling out of alignment and not yet knowing what had been causing my various health problems, I decided on a sabbatical at camp. A week alone on the mountain, out in the woods commiserating with nature, was just what I needed.

In spite of the fact that it rained most of the week, I had a wonderful time. Walks in the woods, good books to read, music and a visit or two from friends, filled my days. At night, with a low fire to keep the damp at bay and my rocking chair pulled up close to the wood stove, I listened to the rhythm of rain on the roof. All was peace...except for one, frightening night.

This particular night, in addition to the rain, the wind howled as thunderstorms marched up the valley. Unconcerned, I fell asleep, only to be awaken by a terrible, resonating crash at two in the morning. I bolted out of bed, grabbed my flashlight and opened the door... to leaves and branches! Not wishing to wander about investigating in the dark of night with trees being blown down, I went back to bed. Sleep, however, eluded me.

In the morning I was greeted with an unbelievable sight. The large maple that had stood next to the cabana and fire pit had snapped at its base and now covered the better part of our yard. My car, our young, thriving beechnut trees, a stone marker and the sundial, all lost in leaves, had, miraculously, been spared. Camp was intact, as was the cabana which stood a mere twelve inches from the fallen trunk.

It took two hours with a hand saw to clear around camp and my car, but I had to wait for my husband to come with his chainsaw before the car could be moved. It amazes me still that no damage was done save the divots and gouges in the lawn.

Cracking Eggs

2007-04-01T06:51:00.000-04:00

Emily, our youngest granddaughter, is eight and big sister to her younger brother Ryan, who is 2 1/2. She's a terrific sister and spends much of her time at home playing with her brother and helping to keep him out of harms way.

She has many interests but her main claim to fame is that she is a wonderful cook. She cooks for her family quite often, everything from spaghetti and sauce with salad, to muffins. She tells me she'd like to be a professional chef when she grows up, and given her early capabilities, I believe it.

And she is the best egg cracker I have ever seen. In all the years I have been cooking and baking, I have never mastered the art of cracking an egg without mishap. Either egg runs down the outside of the bowel or egg shell has to be removed from the inside. Not our Emily, it's a clean, crisp break every time.

Emily, this one's for you.

Introductions

2007-03-29T12:19:00.000-04:00

You've been introduced to Alex, our drummer, when I gave everyone in the family a Mohawk, Paige, when I posted her outstanding poem about the environment and now the blog light is on Sarah, our future fashion designer.

She recently went with her class to see African dancers at the Hopkins Center at Dartmouth College. From what she tells me, it was a wonderful show and an education in dress, drumming and dance. I am quite envious.

In addition to attending this spectacular show, masks were made in art class and the children learned some authentic African dances to preform on their own. Sarah is a terrific dancer and treated me to a show, which I enjoyed tremendously. Bravo!

Night and Day

2007-03-25T13:47:00.000-04:00

Eyes open to darkness

The room, heavy with silence

Bears down

In the murky hours before dawn

Tentacles of fear creep up the spine

Breathe...breathe...

Dawn breaks

The room, filled with light

Opens the eyes to promise

Fear retreats into dim corners

Resolve returns

Breathe!

Spring!

2007-03-23T09:47:00.000-04:00

The sun is shining and the air is balmy, spring is calling. I can't concentrate and subjects for blogging elude me. I've been shut in all winter and all I can think about is getting out, basking in the warm air and breathing in the first fragrances of the season.

I am a creature of nature and the great outdoors, and spring in my Vermont mountains is a time of rich sensations. The heady aroma of damp earth mingles with the intoxicating scent of burgeoning green and fills the senses with the beauty of rebirth. Ahhhh...

While I've been waiting for the sun to reach my porch I have been going through pictures of past seasons. This picture was taken last spring when my daughters and their daughters took me to the Maine coast to soak up the smells, sights and sounds of the ocean while I was still able to get out on the beach. If I close my eyes I can hear the hiss of waves around my feet and feel the tickle of foam. The sharp cry of seagulls resonates in my mind as I recall the prickly tang of salt air.

To quote the Beatles, "Here comes the sun," and I am out of here!

Game Night

2007-03-20T09:06:00.000-04:00

The weekend before last my family got together at our house for what we call "game night." We start the evening with food for our bellies (this time it was pizza) and continue on with food for our souls.

There is much conversation and laughter as we gather for the game of the night, "Scene It" being the choice on this particular evening. We always choose a kid friendly game so that everyone is included in the fun.

Teams are picked and we are off and running. There are many good natured jibes, much cheering and the occasional "booing." My family is populated with very funny people and tears from laughter are not uncommon. We are all early risers so by nine it's time to fold up the board, put away the pieces and say our good nights.

There are warm hugs all around as children and grandchildren depart and I am left feeling complete, happy and loved. I have my husband and our incredible family to thank for making me rich beyond measure.

Dynamic Duo

2007-03-18T08:08:00.000-04:00

This post is for Tammy (The Daily Warrior...I don't know how to link, so your on your own) one of the most remarkable people I have ever known. Through our mutual fight against ALS and the friendship that has bloomed because of it, Pepek (My Uncle Pepek's Journal) dubbed us "The Dynamic Duo," and it struck a cord.

Tammy possesses enormous strength, faith, humor and a caring heart that runs true and deep. She has been fighting her battle for 17 years and has been an inspiration to me and many others.
She has taught me much about how to deal with ALS and how to fight back and I am grateful, every day, for the path that led me to her and her presence in my life.

We are a continent apart but it doesn't matter, we have formed a bond that is forever and we are family. We email every day, often, and have talked on the phone. We share the good, help each other through the challenges and have taken to calling one another "Batman" and "Robin."

I love you, my dear friend and thank God, every day, for you...to the Batcave!

Thanks

2007-03-16T10:57:00.000-04:00

I wish to thank everyone for your kind words and good thoughts. I'm sore as hell from my misadventure but OK, and have recovered my lost pride. Oh, did I neglect to mention that I was in my skivvies when the paramedics came? Oh yeah...

The chicken, however, did not fare so well. It was kicked by a size eleven boot as my saviours departed, left to be found later in the day, crumpled up against the baseboard. CPR was preformed and said chick is now resting while it awaits a ride home. We're skipping the chicken soup!

Rescue 911, the toy chicken and humor

2007-03-15T09:28:00.000-04:00

I have been down with a stomach bug for the past couple of days and am, because of it, weaker than usual. This has made it a bit more difficult for me to move from my power chair to the lift chair I usually sit in unless I'm on the move or outside. I knew a little extra height would make it easier for me to vacate the power chair and decided that putting my 2 inch wheelchair pad on my power seat would be a good solution. In my efforts to make my situation easier, I lost my balance and fell down between my power chair and the dining room table.

Once I've fallen I'm down for the count, and, after catching my breath, I tried to reach for the cell phone I always carry with me in the lower basket of the chair. I couldn't seem to reach it and as I felt tears start to form and panic creeping in, I turned my head and found myself staring straight into the button eyes of the wind up, toy chicken my young grandson, Ryan, had left behind. Thanks to the efforts of my granddaughter, Sarah, the chicken had been sporting a cape and although it wasn't wearing tights, the humor was not lost on me.

I began to laugh, and with the laughter came a release from the building anxiety. I was able to relaxe some and managed to reach my phone. Since my husband hadn't reached work yet and my family were all still asleep, I called 911. As the paramedics entered the door, calling to see if I was OK, I informed them that I was lying on the floor next to a chicken and shouldn't be too difficult to find.

Truth

2007-03-13T12:43:00.000-04:00

The Children's Quest

2007-03-08T10:00:00.000-05:00

I am dedicating this blog to my grandchildren who's commitment to a healthy environment is inspiring and absolute. They are painfully aware of the desperate condition of our planet and are applying their energies, both physical and spiritual, to a cleaner and healthier home for us all.

The following is a poem written by my granddaughter Paige, now thirteen, expressing the depth of her feelings about the devastation left to her generation. She asked me to say that I have inspired her but I feel that all of my grandchildren, with their keen intelligence and sensitivity, would have come to these conclusions on their own. I am so very proud of them all.

I painted a picture

But the colors didn't go

I wrote a song

But the words didn't flow

I had a dream

But I didn't know

That polluted skies

Terrified cries

Trashy parks

Presidential remarks

And a dying world

Was what I got

Left behind to fix the mess

I felt like this shouldn't be my quest

But i will try and fight

To make this earth right

By Paige Charland

The Mirror

2007-03-03T16:48:00.000-05:00

A mirror appeared at the end of the hall

A whisper of time, a beckoning call

The glass looked old and mottled to me

And more than reflection it seemed to see

Who was the woman just standing there

The warmth in her eyes shining through her despair

With a knowing look, quelling all rage

I understood then that the mirror was age

Critters

2007-02-26T08:19:00.000-05:00

Since I seem to be artistically blocked (it's cabin fever, for sure, a rural, end of winter malady) I thought I would continue with vignettes from my life in the Green Mountains of Vermont.

Living in the mountains, we are subject to many visitors of the four legged variety, even in town. The above, aged, Polaroid is of a little visitor who caught my husband and me quite by surprise, along with our dog and cat, one bright summer morning as I came into the kitchen for coffee. I found our dog, Shauna, and our cat, Hattie, sitting in front of our stove, dead still, staring, with all interest in morning chow abandoned.

We assumed, of course, that it was one of the many mice that find their way into our home and started moving the stove in an effort to flush it out. Imagine our surprise when, as the stove came away from the wall, a little masked face made a hesitant appearance. Our baby raccoon had come in through my studio, using the cat entrance in the screen door, and had found it's way into the kitchen.We put our animals in another room, moved the stove out another few feet and watched as the little guy made his way back out to my studio and out the door.

We've had baby raccoons stuck in our cellar while Shauna took it upon herself to chase Mom down the drive, skunks that have chased me back into the house in the morning as I was headed to my car to go to work, red tail hawks feasting on mourning doves on the lawn and the occasional white tail deer that comes through foraging for sweet grass and tender young leaves.

However, the most unusual visitor came last week in the evening as my daughter, Deb and granddaughter, Sarah were helping me bake cookies. Just as Debbie was opening the oven and the sweet smell of baking wafted into the kitchen, the outside door blew open and my husband's daughter, Angela and Hattie the cat literally shot into the room in equal states of agitation. It seems that there was a very large possum in the yard, and since Angela had never seen one (nor Hattie, they are almost nonexistent in this area) they were both sufficiently "freaked out" to consider a quick retreat the best course of action.

It ended up under our car and my husband had to prod it out with a pole in order to take Ms. Hattie to the vets.

The Gorge

2007-02-22T05:59:00.000-05:00

The Williams River, here in Vermont, was always a favorite kayaking destination. A splendid stretch of crystal clear water that weaves it's way through high valleys on the way down to the Connecticut River. It boasts small to medium rapids that are both beautiful and fun and fills the senses with breathtaking scenery.

Approximately ten miles from it's ultimate destination, the Williams takes it's final plunge at Brockways Mills Gorge. It drops over one hundred feet in a magnificent spill of roiling water, thundering over rocks worn smooth through time, then dances from pool to pool as it continues it's journey downward.

The landscape at the gorge is magnificent in any season but in winter, as ice crystals weave their lacy patterns where water touches rock and snow clings to every facade, a blue green wonderland emerges, a surreal and stunning visage.

Mind Trips

Still Standing

Still Standing

What a Time We Had!

Looking To the Future

ALS-Despair and Hope

Grandchildren Updated

On the Road Again

Ain't It The Truth!

Sculpting With Paper

My name is...

Quilts of Love

In Dreams

ALS -- Hitting the Wall and Beyond

Thinking of Lynn

Carbon Footprints

Thanks For Idgy

Meet Idgy

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

Back On Track

Field Trip

Sharing a Joke

Remembering Gus

Rural Vermont

Small Regrets

Thank You

Farewell

Archives

Quality of Life

It's All In De Feet!

Simply Art

Holiday Wishes

Serious Business

A Little Break

Ms. Hattie

Thanksgiving

The First Weekend of Hunting Season

Friends, Old and New

Stoked on Art

The Drugging of America

The Building of Camp

Basking

You've Got A Friend In Me

Birthdays

Batman and Robin

Politics, Survival and Exploding Eggs

Aloft

Speeding Through the Universe

Hard Work and Humor

Sisters

Balance

I Want To Live

Family, Birthdays and Viking Games

65

On Going To Camp

Sisters - Renewed Relationships

Time

While I'm learning...

Past Post

Another Kind of Dragon

Thank You

Thank you, Sarah

Ancient Ones

Confessions

Summer Solstice

Grandchildren Revisited

Solution

Thought Process

The Swimming Hole

The Boys in the Band

Cross Country Ramble

Heritage

Stories of the Sea,The Hopeful and The Ludicrous

Simple Pleasures

Just Right

A Mixed Bag

Happy Mother's Day

Power Chair Mishaps or, Beware the Chair!

Cars I Have Known and Loved

Avast, Me Hearties