Well….cuss words

My heart has a cold fist around it.

I’m beside myself with frozen emotion.

Our nephew, precious young man, engaged to be married, his wedding to his lovely Heather is in December…he has been diagnosed with a soft tissue sarcoma. I met him when he was 4 years old, the cutest little boy. I fell in love with him immediately. He’s been part of my family’s holidays ever since. I’ve not had a Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, 4th of July, Birthdays, Baseball game…Game of Thrones episode without him.

The mass is in his chest wall, wrapped against a rib and pressed against his liver, about the size of a small dinner plate. He’s 32, and in for a fight.

He and Heather are currently in a strategy session with MD Anderson to investigate this mass further, and determine how to fight. It wont’ be without surgery, radiation et al.

If I could get ahold of that devil, and stomp on his head with my 7 1/2 foot, I’d put a hurt on him like he’s never known. Big Cuss Words!

Colin has an Aunt Wendy who’s praying for him. We are coming together as a family to support our precious young man. Please pray for him, he’s like one of my own boys.

Breathing

It’s hard to breathe in a storm.

Professionally, personally, there is so much going on.

It seems like everything has hit at one time.

Parents, children, nephews, clients, co-workers, in-laws, friends….

I’m strapped in for the storm.

But I am breathing.

Tomorrow is another day, right?

Saying goodbye to 2018

Art, travel, death, introspection, an amazing loss of activity on the blog. My worst year since 2013, by far.

More readers (many thanks to the pest control folks in Australia), but fewer likes, comments, views, visits, and interest.

The question is, to continue, or not to continue?

It’s the little things

You can’t take control of the world unless you can take control of a dirty kitchen, garage, garden, etc.

Start with the practical, and move to the impossible.

I love dreamers. I am a dreamer in many respects.

The other side of me is practical. I’ve practiced in taking practical steps to secure my dreaming. The better I am at the practical, the bigger my dreams become.

“The more I do, the more I can do, because I know I can do it.” Quote by Authentic Wendy

What?

(Jackie Chan. Image from Pinterest.)

Dr: There’s no tear in the bicep, and the bone spur doesn’t require surgery.

How was the shoulder after the Arthroscopy?

Me: it hurt worse after.

Dr: Are you diabetic?

Me: no

Dr: Thyroid issues? Irregular cycles? (Orthopedic surgeon is asking)

Me: What? What does that have to do with anything?

The good news is no surgery.

The bad news is I have a Adhesive Capsulitis, or Frozen Shoulder. 6 weeks of physical therapy.

There is fluid in the shoulder capsule that is adversely affected by hormone changes, and synthetic thyroid medication. So two strikes. I’m grateful I’m not diabetic.

This hormone thing is way too pervasive.

Stings, Stalkers, the bees stung my Bee-hind.

That’s just one of them, within 30 minutes of the sting. I’d show the rest, but they are on my butt, inner thighs, and got dangerously close to a very sensitive area.

Nothing will get you moving faster than a bee sting closing in between your legs.

An hour later the sting is 4 times it’s initial size. And my thighs and backside are burning now, swollen, and did I mention burning? I’m glad I got the baking soda paste on as soon as I did.

9 total this time. The girls were not happy, and I had about 12 following me all around the bee yard. I call it “stalking”. They are put out, and follow us around dive bombing our veils, hitting our jackets, expressing their discontent until they are certain that we understand their distress.

Well, this time I got ticked off, because we hadn’t done anything more than put in beetle traps. We didn’t remove frames, we didn’t steal honey, we didn’t even pull anything apart. Quick in and out to help them keep the other bugs off of them.

What did I do when the bees came after me?

First, I squelched the impulse to panic and burn down the hive.

Second, I kept talking to them, and made sure they knew I was calm.

Third, I got out of the bee yard as soon as possible, followed by the hive ‘stalkers’.

I got to the cabin, took off my jeans, treated my stings with baking soda and water paste and took an antihistamine. I changed my jeans from dark denim (which they don’t like) to white canvas Dickey work pants, and went back out. Those little bees were not having the last word, not by any means. Canvas is harder to sting through than jeans. No doubt.

As soon as I stepped foot back across the pond, the Stalkers decided that I hadn’t learned my lesson, and began harassing me again. They didn’t make it back to the hive. I can put up with a lot, but I’m not putting up with an aggressive hive. That queen will be replaced next week. 9 stings, and two stalking

This was one of the nice hives today. But you can see how active they are early in the morning.

Bee keeping has it’s ups and downs. Today was a bit of a down day, but I couldn’t let those bugs have the last say in how my day went.

Sitting might be an issue for the next couple of days, darn it.

Today I’m grateful that I’m not allergic to bees, and that I went back out into the yard.

Odd seasons

Many moons ago now, (cause I had to look it up) Mary Chapin Carpenter had a song called the Bug.  It was on her Come On Come On album from 1992.  I think that counts as Many Moons, since it was over 25 years ago.

It describes perfectly how this year has gone so far.

We are into February, and I am feeling off balance. Friends are distant, things are changing. Work is stalled. I’m doing my best to keep a good attitude, and hoping to being the Windshield soon.

Are we in for another Moon Event?  How many Blue, Super, Wolf, Eclipsing, Moons can we have in such a short period of time?  Could that be the cause of such oddness going on?

The kiss


I have been married a long time.  I’ve had the opportunity to kiss my husband thousands of times. Do I still kiss him with my eyes?  Hmm. I’m not sure.  Something to think about. 

I’m not talking about Romance.  I’m talking about routine Maintenance in a practical sense.   You don’t drive a car without changing the oil, rotating the tires, or keeping the brakes working.   Is The Kiss the basic maintenance of a marriage?

Being of a certain age and being together with my husband for so very long, the kiss….. unless exercised can get a bit dull.  It could seize up completely. The peck, or perfunctory smooch…..it has its functions.  I’m not a teenager. It’s not about the slobbering, sloppy, silly, stuff.   I’m speaking of The Kiss. 

 I’m starting an experiment. I miss The Kiss. The seductive, knee buckling, spine tingling, ‘wow’ kiss. The one where we tried harder?  The kiss of intention.  The claiming kiss.  The kiss of promise, passion, and commitment.  The Kiss when we meant it to express our care and desire for one another.

I’m reinstating the flirt.  Why?  Isn’t that where we started?  Introduction, assessment, inquiry, conversation, and instigation?  Too technical, I know, but that’s how it breaks down.  You meet, you look, you talk, then you try (go out, hang out, text, whatever).  I want to try harder.  I want to rekindle the maintenance and management of us.  Anything can go bad if your don’t take care of it.  I’m going to start taking better care.

  I’m focusing on how great is his smile.  How broad his shoulders, how strong his arms.  How he laughs.  What makes him laugh?  How can I touch his arm?  How can I make him feel wonderful, appreciated, cared for, wanted?  Would he hold me in those strong arms?  How can I dress for him?  Am I my best for him?  Does he still want me?

People try so hard to impress, dress, speak, and act to attract a stranger.  Why shouldn’t we maintain those things for the ones we’ve committed our lives to….Whom we’ve professed our love for….those?

Tonight, invited my husband out on a date in a very flirtatious manner. I might even let him kiss me at the door when we say goodnight.

Cheers to the Kiss, and to reacquainting flirtation and fun to an old romance.  Cheers to some old fashion maintenance.

My husband and I have been friends and lovers for over 25 years, we don’t have to be “old” about it.