Think Pink

Breast cancer used to be a word that was rarely spoken of without some sense of dread. It was like hearing a death sentence being handed down. Now it has become a word that is tagged with pretty pink bows as more and more this type of cancer is diagnosed early enough for successful treatment. More and more survivors are out there to tell their story.

I am one of those women. The diagnosis was first given when I was in my early forties. I had yet to have gone in for the recommended baseline mammograms so I was fortunate. My symptom was a simple tingle across the nipple when fabric rubbed and it was not a pleasurable tingle but one that was a daily irritant. I finally mentioned it when seeing my physician for something completed unrelated. Luckily for me, he insisted that it was time for me to have that mammogram and it showed a small tumor lying just behind the nipple. A tumor that I would not have found by self-exam until it had grown much larger. A simple surgery and biopsy confirmed the diagnosis and treatments began. Six weeks of chemo and three years of follow-up care until another tumor was found and again I went through treatments. It has now been over ten years without any further evidence of its return so I call myself a survivor but I have learned to be more careful with my health. I adhere to the prescribed, age appropriate exams.

So wear your Pink and support the cause of cancer research but don't forget to take care of yourself!

First Frost

When I got up this morning and stepped out onto the back deck, I could still see traces of the light frost from the night before as it slowly gave over to the sun. And though the sun was bright, the temperature never made it beyond the low 60's so I spent most of the day sitting in a pool on sunlight, curled on the couch with afghan and book.

I am reading bit and pieces of Jimmy Carter's White House Diary. It is one of those books that you do not have to read from first page to last but simply pick a date that interests you and go from there. Carter was very straight forward with his documentation of his days in Office and pulled to punches in putting down how he truly felt. It was interesting to read about his thoughts on the day that Reagan was sworn into office and he stood next to him, looking as if he was not at all following the ceremony. In fact,as he states it his thought were all on the hostage negotiations and he was praying that there would be no last minute change of mind from Iran that would leave the delicate negotiations in the hands of one who would screw it up. As we all know there was no last minute change of mind and the hostages were freed and Reagan gladly took the credit for it.

For One Who Inspires

Kiss From A Rose

Sissel Kyrkjebø - You`ll Never Walk Alone

For Sol

Many Worlds & Friendship

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. ~Henri Nouwen

As I have each year since 2001, I have thought about friends and family a lot this past weekend. There have been choices made that have altered relationships and the thought of "if I could only go back and do it over.." surfaces. I know that I would not want to go back and do over because each choice made affected something else in my life and the uncertainty of which things would no longer be is the lock on the time machine door.

Friends, unlike family, can decide to no longer be friends or at least to cease being there for the other person. I place a high value upon my friends. They are treasures beyond price and I fight with everything within me to hold on to those friendships. We might not see each other for years, separated by the different paths that we choose but I know that any time that our paths happen to cross that bond of friendship is still there.

And I would like to think that if the "many worlds" theory is true that each of these friends still travel with me on my life's journey. Those that, for one reason or another, choices made, were not as close as one would wish in this world, are the nearest and dearest in one of the other realities.

Friends not made in this world are within my circle there. Losses are spared by different choices that are made. Somewhere out there, in one of these worlds I am with my first love..in another it is the second, and so on. If one thinks on this for any length of time the possibilities are endless and it puts sorrow into the background.

Robbie Robertson, Shine Your Light (Ladder 49)

9 Years Ago

It does not seem like it has been that long. I still cry when I start to think about the day. And what a beautiful day it had started out to be, with the weather being that wonderful late summer warm with just the hint of the approaching fall. I was working and a co-worker kept a small television on her desk to catch the morning news shows. It was her exclamation that drew me away from my desk and to the rapidly growing crowd of workers that surrounded the small TV. All attempts to concentrate on work ceased when the second plane hit the tower.

My thoughts immediately went to my friends living in New York and I quickly sent out an email to try and reach one of them and find some comfort in hearing a first hand report. I did not hear back until late the following day but since he was a reporter I did catch glimpses during the day that assured me that at least he was okay. The email, however, brought the news that a dear friend had been one of the many victims of that day. We had lost touch after college and marriage, careers took us in different directions. My grief included the sadness of years missed without the hope now of being able to reconnect.

A year later I reached out to her children and they kindly offered me a part in their lives.

One Tin Soldier

This is testing my new video program

Trying New Things

Solo



Recently I began playing with my photos, making slide shows, etc. The above is my first attempt at a new process via Animoto and so far I like their product. It is easy to use and provides a good musical selection as well as allowing for the use of your own music. I just wish that the photo editing process was a little easier to use but I think it will become easier as I do more projects.

And the rain , rain, rain, came down

I feel like Pooh


or perhaps it is more of an Eeyore kind of feeling that is in the air. I watched the weather reports this afternoon and all claimed that the storms would pass north and south of Madison with some small breeze to cool the air. Imagine my surprise when I heard a whoosh, a thump. When I investigated  I discovered the wind was blowing quite strongly and had ripped the porch awning up off of its mooring. As I stood watching things blowing down the street the rain came in horizontal sheets. Cars were sending up waves of water toward the students who were just leaving the high school which is across the street. Some made a dash back toward the school while others simply took it in stride and continued on to their cars.

Now rain is the last thing that we need right now but I hold this slim hope that perhaps that there will be less moisture to come during the winter months!  :-)  One can hope!!

Summer's End

Here it is, the middle of August, and the evenings are started to cool down considerably. I find myself tuning off the AC and wrapping myself in an afghan as I sit and read or watch the telly. But then morning comes and by mid-morning the heat begins once more. It is Mother Nature's way of reminding me that I live in Wisconsin and our warm seasons are short but sweet.

This summer was strange with periods of very hot weather, followed by torrential rains. My grass has  never had to be mowed as often as this summer required. And don't even get me started on the mosquito population explosion that was seen toward the end of July and continues this month. As noted in previous blog entries, the insect world and I have an ongoing feud and our worlds have collided more than normal this summer.

Bees, flies (both house and fruit) spiders, lady beetles, earwigs, ants, and mosquitoes have taken up squatters rights around my house. Right now a spider has erected a giant web across the back of my car from antenna to a bush along the drive. He persists in redoing it daily so I imagine he finds that all of my other squatters offer him excellent hunting.

In addition to the insect world, I have several gophers who have made their hole between the paving stones of my front walk and a warren of rabbits that make my yard their own. At night  I discover the presence of a somewhat unwelcome prowler, Mr Skunk, and I tend to let him go about his hunt without too much interference.  With the end of summer some of these fellow inhabitants of this property will move away but I ask myself what will take their place? 

David Cook and Carrie Underwood Duet at Walt Disney World

Little Miss Muffet

Have I mentioned that I don't like spiders? I am told by friends that most of them are quite harmless and in fact help to control the more destructive insects. I hear, "remember Charlotte!" and all the other things that are suppose to make me feel good about the abundance of spiders that are lurking about my place. And I know that they are watching me and just waiting for their chance to ensnare me in their web.

I remember as a young girl sitting at a family gathering and seeing a spider dangling from a thin strand of webbing just above my head. At the time I laughed and slid my stool over a few feet, only to see the spider finish coming down and scampering over to where I sat. I moved again, still with a laugh, getting a little less joyful, and once again the spider changed direction, at which point I leaped from the stool and raised across the room just like poor Miss Muffet!

I love this little snippet!

http://vimeo.com/7787870

Ceara A Preview of my story (rough draft only)

Ceara sat before the blazing peat fire, watching as smoke curled up and out the chimney. It was on nights like this when the west wind blew in, carrying with it storms, that her thoughts turned to family or rather her lack of family. Her mother had died at her birth and her father, not knowing what to do with a small girl child, had delivered her over to the care of his friend Merlin and had disappeared. From time to time treasures were sent back from the various times and places where he wandered but what she wanted most of all, a day to day father, was not to be.

Now it was not as if her childhood was lonely or miserable. How could it be in the household of Merlin? For a time she had even had a playmate, a young lad by the name of Arthur, but all too soon he was sent away to act as squire to a nobleman in a distant land. Ceara learned all that Merlin thought to teach her. She learned to mix potions, cast minor spells and best of all to communicate with the animals of the forest. And then in the summer of her fifteenth year everything changed.

Merlin disappeared.

Now as a wizard, he had done this many times, often going to check on young Arthur but this time he did not return. Ceara continued her chores and worked on her studies in Merlin's workshop, each day checking the glow of the great crystal ball that dominated the room. As days passed the glow of the crystal grew dimmer indicating that something was preventing Merlin’s return.

Ceara was truly alone now.

At first Ceara maintained the pretense to visitors that Merlin was only away on a short visit and was expected back at anytime. She would make up the requested potions but would advise them that she would ask Merlin to consider their request for a spell casting when next she talked with him. Later after the visitor had left Ceara would go into Merlin's Workshop and pull down his great book of spells, find the appropriate entry and cast the requested spell.

Sometimes the spells did not always work the way they were suppose to work and disgruntled villagers would show up to complain. One morning the baker's wife had wanted a spell to make her daughter more beautiful in order to catch the eye of the Mayor's son. She returned the next day, bringing along a lovely white mare. Ceara had only asked in her spell that the girl be made to resemble the son's heart's desire. Little did she know that he had been trying to convince his father to let him purchase a new horse and had his heart set on a lovely white mare that he had seen recently at a fair.

Ceara asked that the girl/horse be left in her care and she would see that the spell was reversed as soon as Merlin came home. That evening, she cast spell after spell until the girl was returned to herself and quickly fled toward home.

The next morning the Mayor and a group of the leading citizens arrived at the cottage demanding to speak to Merlin. Upon discovering that he was not there and that Ceara had been casting the spells herself the angry group demanded that she leave the village. And so packing the few possessions that she could carry with her and casting a final spell to ensure the security of Merlin's home, Ceara started on a journey that would bring with it many adventures.


So off she went, her pack slung over her back and Merlin’s cat, Marric, scampering behind. Ceara had no idea where she was going but simply placed one foot in front of the other and headed off toward the setting sun.

Ceara traveled for several hours. She finally stopped for the night beside a quiet pond.

After eating a small meal of the bread and cheese from her pack, she settled down for the night. The sounds of nature and the soft light of the moon lulled her to sleep. As she slept the word of her presence sped thru the forest.

Micmacs: trailer HD 1080