"Goddess" for a Day!

Remember this photo?

Well, guess what it earned me? A "Goddess" designation. That's right. You are looking at an "Apron Goddess." You may now be appropriately awed. I am disproportionately odd. But I'm still the feature of the day at The Apron Goddesses.

This is a site I have greatly enjoyed. It's usually about very talented people who wear and make the cutest aprons in the world. I have no talent. So I wondered why I was hanging out there. I have been known to throw away whole patterns still firmly pinned to scattered pieces of fabric. A dear seamstress friend, Crystal, told me it was okay to do this (as a last ditch measure and in an attempt to free myself from sewing guilt) if things went horribly south and the project couldn't be saved. Uh, well, that's all I needed to hear.

Sewing machines become possessed in my presence.

Do you realize there is a device on a modern sewing machine that allows you to adjust the tension? It doesn't make any difference. I turn it all the way down and I'm still a nervous wreck. My bobbins leap out of their holders. I've broken more needles than I ever actually sewed with. The thread pile in one square inch of material, when I'm done attempting a straight line of stitching, is large enough for a small bird to live in, give birth, and raise a family.

I did manage to turn out a few sleeveless dresses for Bo when she was around two. Small successes frequently cause me brain damage. Consequently, I got this horrible idea I could make mySELF a dress. Naturally, with "Bingo Wings," as Ladybird World Mother calls them, it wasn't gonna be sleeveless. Yes, Virginia, I truly believed with my giftedness at the sewing machine, I could actually make a dress with arm coverings. How is it you can cut out a sleeve (which is supposed to attach to the body of a dress) but it is several feet larger around than the hole it's supposed to fit into? After several attempts to marry this mismatch, I gave the whole ratty pile a proper burial in the garbage bin and kicked it to the curb. Then I put my feet up, grabbed a latte, and I might have switched on Martha Stewart just to swear at her. I'd like to think I didn't. I prefer to believe only the best about myself and am rarely influenced by facts.

But the lovely folks over at The Apron Goddesses are not given to these fits of temper and irrationality. They actually LIKE to sew. And they are always making the cutest things. All I do is buy well. And I BOUGHT my oh-so-cute plastic apron. And it is highly functional, required no sewing on my part and, therefore, keeps me from swearing. If I ever did. Which I'm SURE is unlikely being the sweet, gentle, demure darling I am.

Please go have a look. People over there sell, too, if you're looking for something in particular. You can also find where I bought my apron. Don't mention any of my bad qualities, please. They might not let me hang out with them anymore.

Copyright 2009

Observational Twitter 15

Famous Quote:

"Friends are like potatoes; if you eat 'em, they die." Unknown Origin

Unfamous Observation:

"Now how could I POSSIBLY improve on that?" Robynn Reilly

My First Flame...And I Ain't Talkin' Boyfriends....

Someone doesn't heart me.

Get in line "anonymous." I'm not everyone's cup of tea.

And now THIS heartbreak (tongue-firmly-in-cheek)

Bo's looks don't meet your standards. Our moral compass is evil. Bo is destined to fail and have a miserable life. Where were you when I was ASKING for advice? Had I only known, we might not have fallen down so flat.

Bummer.

(Anonymous's comments appear around #30 in the comments on "Bo's Senior Photos". My response is shortly thereafter for the interested.) UPDATE: Her name is LENA and she has written again, as have I. She has my admiration for coming back and identifying herself.

And the following is food for thought:

For Fortitude:

"He has no enemy, you say;
My friend your boast is poor,
He who hath mingled in the fray
Of duty that the brave endure
Must have made foes.
If he has none
Small is the work that he has done.
He has hit no traitor on the hip;
Has cast no cup from perjured lip;
Has never turned the wrong to right;
Has been a coward in the fight.

~Anastasius Grun

May you be brave today and go forth doing good and bringing joy!

For Humor:

This one just gave me the chuckle I needed: :-)

"He has no enemies but is intensely disliked by his friends." Oscar Wilde

And finally, for Inspiration:

"DO IT ANYWAY"

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered; forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank; people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous; be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; give the world the best you've got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis it is between you and God It was never between you and them anyway.

Reportedly written my Mother Theresa and found in an orphange where she dedicated her life.

Thank you for making me think of all this today, Anonymous! Sometimes we need a challenge.

My "Bo".....The Senior Photos....My Thoughts

Can my little, toddling baby really be the young woman in these photos?

If your babies have grown up, you'll understand the bitter sweetness of it. If not, it may feel like years before you find yourself in my shoes. And I know mothers always say, "Treasure it. It flies by." But it's true. And it did.

I was older when my babies came so I knew that time warps and folds ever faster as the years progress. And yet I am, even now, caught off guard.

I savored the fragrance of sweet baby heads. I joyed in the sheer heft of chunky cherub legs. I reveled in little arms lifted for embraces and cries of, "Hold you! Hold You!" And I believe with all my heart you will never be loved by any human, through time immemorial, the way you are loved by your baby or toddler. You are the world. And then the world expands.

And you find yourself staring down a telescoping road of time wondering at the speed of the journey. You stumble over the fork in the road that will be THEIR path. And you gaze forward, imagining.

I am prepared for this day.

I am devastated by this day.

I am overjoyed at this day.

I love who my daughter is becoming and am delighted to see God's grace and shaping in her life. Her stubborn streak infuriates me and comforts me. She will not be blown by every ill wind as her mother has so often been. She is stronger. She is prepared. She is more deeply rooted. She, who, at nearly 18, has never been kissed and does not date. She, who waits on God's perfect person and timing. She, who laughs readily and easily, and loves deeply.

She is ready.

And I? I will attend her and shake out the train of her future as it adorns her; not ready, and yet, not willing to hold her back. Go, my darling girl. Seek God's guidance in everything. Give Him all you are. Remember your gifts come from His hand. I pray His blessing on you. He will give you all you need and perfect his beauty within you.

I love you with my whole heart.

The preceeding photos are used by permission from an enchanting photographer, our dear young friend, Miss Sally Parish. You can contact her here. She is the sweetest young woman and gave us an incredible amount of time shooting "Bo's" photos on location. She is truly gifted and if you are in the Central Valley area of California, I would highly recommend you contact her for any photography work. Thank you, Sally, for the time we spent with you and the lovely way you captured our dear girl. We love you.

Copyright 2009

POST 100 - Ma & The Younguns Take on The City - Day 2

What do you do when you find yourself in need of a hotel room for the night and you haven't prepared with silly little details like packing? You count on "MacGyver" in the form of your teenage daughter to come up with ideas.

"Hey, that cat box we just bought is still in the trunk. We can throw our junk in there and use it for a suitcase," intones said daughter.

"I'm not walking through the lobby carrying a CAT box," I protest.

"Who cares? They'll never see us again. Who'll know?"

No one, I'm sure.

So here's a picture of our Samsonite Luggage Cat Box. It carried all our c-rap and we put a pillow on top - oh yeah, we had a pillow for the car - and schleped it right through the lobby like the back water, two teeth sportin', overall wearin', knuckle draggers we are.

And if you wanna go to the beach, don't buy pretty little sand and shell buckets. Just use the containers your kids ate their healthy french fries in.

No beach towel for the ocean? No problem. Plant your posterior on a floor mat. It indents pretty little patterns on your backside as a bonus and you'll look like your buns were grilled on a bonfire. That's sorta beachy don't cha think?

When it's time for dinner, go here. Polker Burger is our favorite neighborhood joint in San Francisco. It's on Polk St. if you're ever in the area. Great prices and food good enough to slop down the front of you when you don't have a change of clothing. Anyone who's known me for very long knows I can't eat ANYthing without spilling it on myself. Why not all the more so when what you're wearing is what you will also wear tomorrow?

Shampoo supplied in the room makes great laundry detergent for all your washing needs and the blow dryer works well, too. Kiss yourself right on the lips as you look in the mirror for thinking to wear two tops. Even though one is open and has buttons, the under one, once it's dry, can be slept in. Try to lay really FLAT all night long and maybe no one will know the difference the next day.

Hike the hills and take pictures of places like these. Don't linger too long with your dinner down your front. They'll take you for vagrants and have you hauled off. That might not be bad though. You get three hots and a cot for free.

Have your children, in this case Hannah-Bo and The Wild Man, sit on someone's stoop and look like they live there. We did. But some ultra-fit bicycle metro-sexual dude in his skin tight high-dollar bicycle outfit started scoping out Hannah-Bo. Kept turning around and eyeing her while nearly falling off his bike. We left before she caused an accident. Though it would have been fun to watch.

"The Thinker" here (aka TWM) was actually very close to the Legion of Honor Museum where they have an incredible Rodin exhibit. This happened to be on the deck of the hotel that Grizzly found for us online.......for $87.00. In San Francisco. On the spur-of-the-moment. It's good to have a husband who has worked a lot in this city and knows exactly where to send a stranded wife and kids. If you look really closely - or enlarge the photo - you can see the Golden Gate Bridge in the background.

This sculpture is in front of the building I go to at UCSF. We love the convoluted angles because everything that happens to me here is convoluted.


And don't these buildings look like they're falling toward one another into the middle of the street?

Welcome to the newly rebuilt Museum of Natural Sciences in Golden Gate Park. Now get out.

We weren't here very long when they evacuated us all. About 2,000 of us were escorted rapidly out. Why? We never knew. But I had a jaunty time visiting with the cutest kids from a Chinese private school. They wore plaid skirts (the girls, not the boys) and bright red sweaters. We chatted each other up like old friends and I found out all about their likes and dislikes, school projects, and why they hate uniforms. They didn't even mind about my backwater ways and two teeth (one on the top and one on the bottom fer good chewin'). I would have taken a picture but their parents weren't there to give permission and I'm funny about that with my own kids.

Back inside we visited the aquarium, sat through the MOST amazing Planetarium film, a 3-D movie on the life of bugs, and wandered through a green biosphere filled with birds and butterflies.


These choppers (below) were interesting. I think I should have a big blow-up of them to hang out in the entry way to my study when I'm feeling crabby. That would serve as a warning to all without the use of words. My kids would appreciate the signage, I'm sure. I could have used this warning sign after we visited the museum cafe. Mind you, my only possible carrying case was the Samsonite Cat Box which I truly DID refuse to carry through the museum. Consequently, we had nothing to pack our own lunch in. We were at their mercy.

I do not lie when I tell you they charged NINE.DOLLARS.AND.FIFTY.CENTS for a hamburger bun with cheese and turkey on it. No fries. No anything else. Chips were $2.50 a bag. I am feeding two teenagers here, for Pete's sake. But I wasn't about to be extorted three times over. I cut one sandwich up into three pieces, we shared two bags of chips, and, out of the goodness of their teeny tiny museum hearts, they gave us free cups of water. Then I lectured the kids on the evils of highway robbery, told them to buck up (you should know here.....they had each eaten their weight in free pastries at the hotel continental breakfast not many hours before), and promised to feed them again at a more financially prudent time.

What do you think this is? I have no idea either. But I like the color, shadow, and lines.

We left San Francisco headed east on the Bay Bridge. Halfway across we stopped at Treasure Island. I've always wanted to do this but it's been a Naval Base. It was recently decommissioned which opened it to the public. Every time I pass the exit I say we should stop and investigate. Someone told me you can even camp out there. We took the exit this time (it feels REALLY weird to exit a bridge in the middle of the ocean). As we headed down it became quickly apparent we weren't in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. Criminal types cruised around and looked very scary.

I was thrilled when I saw two police cars with someone pulled over. I stopped and asked the least busy one if it was safe out here with just a woman and two children. He looked dubious and then added cautiously, "Should be okay as long as you don't drive through any neighborhoods or stop the car." Feeling safe and welcome, we left.

But this view of the rest of the Bay Bridge connecting into Oakland was taken from the waterfront area. I don't think we'll be camping here just anytime too soon. But if YOU should decide to, bring your Glock. (Just kidding City of San Francisco! I know you have wonderful prohibitions against law-abiding citizens possessing handguns. Only the thugs of your lovely metropolis and now, apparently, Treasure Island as well, are permitted such favors.)

And when you exit Treasure Island and re-enter the Bay Bridge, you will merge immediately onto the bridge. You will have to go from a dead stop at a stop sign and you will have no merging lane. Traffic travels at around 170mph. Good luck. Plan for this to take two hours to get the guts to take off, and another hour to find a spot to fit into.

Thus concludes our tour. Hope you enjoyed the tutorial on survival and site-seeing in San Francisco. For all it's faults, it's still my favorite city in the world (so far). I hated to say good-bye but I knew we would be back. And maybe next time we'll bring the deluxe, COVERED cat box with the handle on top.

(All photographs courtesty of Hannah-Bo, except where she appears.)

P.S. In my last post, a few of you thought I was asking God to take me home. I really just meant I was ready for him to take away the migraine. I do feel death, in this situation, might be too permanent a solution to this temporary situation. But I'm glad to hear you would miss me!

P.S.S. This was my 100th post in the four months I've been out here. I am amazed that I have yakked on so much and still have so much to write about. Not a lot to SAY, mind you, but a lot I'll be writing. Thank you ALL for hanging with me this long. You're the BEST!

Copyright 2009

We Interrupt Our Previously Scheduled Broadcast.....

Sorry.....migraine today......trying to shake it but can't enough to write the second part of the San Francisco trip. Hurts my eyes to stare at the screen but it will pass and the words will be flying at you all too soon!

I have joined a special post club today from Pampering Beki called "Fingerprint of God Friday." We are to link back to her and then post something in which we can see God's Fingerprint. You might think that would be hard with a migraine but truly, not at all. I could have developed this when I had to deal with the doctors. It could have come during all the frivolity and fun I had with the kids, at the museum. It could have attacked me during heavy traffic and a four hour commute. It did none of those.

It waited until today. Today when my schedule is clear except for a kid activity tonight - and I hope it goes away for that. I can lay down. I can apply hot packs. Grizzly is even laid off work all this week (pray for work please!) and I can ask him to rub my head if it gets too bad. And he will. I think it's medicine induced. Had to go on an antibiotic for a sinus infection and the side effect says, "May cause headache." It did. Of course. But not until today. A GOOD day to be sick. And how many times have any of us lamented, "NOT TODAY! I don't have TIME!" Today I had time. The fingerprint of a gracious God.

Some would say it would be more gracious if he had allowed you not to have a headache at all. But then I would have to answer, "Gracious to whom?" It would place me above the rest of the human race who all suffer at times. This is just my day. I would be a pompous twit if I never got sick, or had pain, or faced travails. These keep me human, and humble, and caring, and in touch with humanity.

And now that I have mixed with humanity to the point that I cannot tell where I end and they begin, I'm ready to be done. Okay Lord? Truly. Now would be good. I'll be the one right here with the pink hot pack on my head. Just waiting on you. Thank you. Anytime would be good. Now would be better.

Copyright 2009

San Francisco - The Boring Part - Day 1

If you're going to San Francisco,

Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair,

If you're going to San Francisco,

Be sure to pack a change of underwear.

(Oh, and your laptop is a nice touch, too.)

I'm pretty sure that's not what the song says but it SHOULD. Maybe then I would have thought of that for those "just-in-case-you-get-stuck-there" moments.

If you read my last posting from what seems like six weeks ago (but was really only Tuesday morning), you know I went to UCSF for a doctor's appointment and some tests. This was supposed to be straightforward. Nothing in my life is EVER straightforward so why, after all these years of experience, do I still act like a "daft and dewy-eyed dope?" (Thank you Rogers & Hammerstein. What's up with me and songs today?)

The appointment was good, as doctors go.

If you've been hanging out with me for very long you know how thrilled I am by most doctors. There are a few fabulous ones but the bad ones are just SO bad, they take up all the air (and print) space. So, it's time to set that straight. I GOT A REALLY NICE DOCTOR! She was informative, personable, investigative, warm, conversational, and thorough. I even brought the kids in to meet her. She laughed and smiled and acted like a human being. Be still my beating heart.

For those of you who may not know, I battle several health issues for which there have been no clear-cut answer. It has attacked different nerves in my body and is degenerative (not MS, not ALS, not AIDS, not HIV - yes, they have checked me for all these and then some - good times), has had a blood component called "porphyria," which has also caused my liver and spleen to get very sick periodically, leaves me with diminished physical stamina and quite fatigued at times, and has affected my immunity. And just for the record? I HATE TALKING ABOUT HEALTH ISSUES. About myself.

That was one of the reasons I started the blog. I could update here and then not have to talk about it when I see my friends. Get on to more interesting things, as it were. But every once-in-awhile I have to face it, see doctors, or (blech) TALK about it. It is the human condition.

The reality is we will all get sick from time-to-time and sometimes we get REALLY sick. Most of us live with a pain or five here and there. Some of us live with chronic conditions for which there is no cure but they wear away at you. Some will be taken out by wretched things. Cheery, I know. Sorry. But it is reality. I just choose to focus on the OTHER things in life which are also reality. Humor, joy, kids, friends, pets, nature, compassion, God's grace. The GOOD stuff.

Which puts me in mind of a little friend I had when I lived in the Projects for a while, as a child. Her name was Lanie and we were near constant companions after school and on weekends. She would go to church with us sometimes and I, in my theological eight-year-old wisdom, thought she needed to hear about the devil and hell as we rode along in the backseat one day.

"OH!" she shouted, covering her ears. "Don't tell me about that bad part! I just wanna hear the good stuff!"

That pretty much sums up my attitude on discussing my health. I like to focus on the "good stuff." Because if I have to give that up AND have my health affected, then it HAS cost me dearly and I would spiral into a depression. There is just so much good and beautiful and joyous in the world. And it will be joyous and good the day I drop dead. (Wait.....I'm not sure that came out just right but I think you know what I mean......!)

When it gets maddening for me is when I am assigned an attitudinal do-little-know-less-uncaring-I-am-the-god-of-the-universe doctor. I won't describe him because you've all met him. I don't know anyone who hasn't come into contact with at least one of these self-appointed rulers of the cosmos. They're such one-trick ponies they don't merit much more explanation.

But sometimes, some blessed, wonderful times, you get a doctor who loves what they do and genuinely wants to help people. I think Dr. Chi, my UCSF Immunologist, is that kind of doctor. So......Yay!

She said she would be doing HOMEwork and research (really? For me?) because she has never seen my particular blood result history and wants to get to the bottom of it. Then she ordered more labs. Labs to be run at her first-rate medical center, UCSF, where I've had labs run before. But since then the insurance has changed the rules and they want you to have labs done at their cut-rate facilities, even if they're very specific labs and take specialty equipment and highly skilled techs. Unless the doctor says "No, it must be done here at the hospital." And by the time I discovered that, the appointment was over. Dr. Chi was the one who told me to check with the insurance company before having the tests done.

And the office staff was less than helpful. One sweet little gal cooly informed me that they wouldn't deal with insurance issues and it was my problem if, "I didn't want to be bothered to go have labs elsewhere and come back and forth." I informed her I lived 150 miles away and it wasn't a matter of not wanting to be "bothered." I was SO proud of myself. I didn't reach across the desk and whack her. Because that's what I wanted to do.

Instead, I spoke kindly and managed to at least get her cooperation in asking someone else. And then I prayed. And then I went to work. I took on Satan - also known as the HMO. Wow. Lanie would have REALLY freaked out if I had told her the truth about THEM.

I spent the next two hours on my cell phone lost in the maze of computer prompts. Each time I got a live body I was put on hold and disconnected or sent back to the introductory prompt to start all over again. When I finally got an answer, I was told they had no information for California and I had been routed to Arizona information. How far can your eyeballs stick out of your head before they actually fall out and roll down your chest do you think?

Next was our local group. They were the ones who informed me special approval was needed and should have been requested beforehand. But it was a possibility. One caveat: it would have to be requested to be processed STAT. And who would have to do that? Our kindly office staff. Yippee. Just great. That'll probably happen when Hell freezes over.

May I say thank you to all of you who were praying for me this day? Our little stone in a sling actually brought down Goliath. And caused the following weather phenomenon:

I won't go into death-defying details but five office people later and a "chance" meeting with the doctor in the hallway (to ask if she would write a request saying she wanted the test done at UCSF and she MORE than happily said she absolutely did, and did it immediately), the insurance rep who had been less than friendly, took it upon herself to WALK MY PAPERS to the approval dept., got them approved before we hung up the phone, and worked out the rest with the office. And this after another rep with the same insurance company had told the office it would be DAYS before it could be approved.

I saw locked doors opened right before my very eyes. The eyes that were laying on my chest.

And I got validation.

A lovely woman, Tanika, who usually worked in a different department, approached me as I sat in the hallway weaving together office staff, insurance companies, labs, and doctors into something I could actually use.

"I just witnessed what you went through with the office here. And I heard what was said to you by the girl who accused you of not "wanting to be bothered." Here's the card of the department manager. Please talk to her. They can't fix what they don't know about. No one should go through what you just went through. That was completely wrong."

Would she have been on my side if I had lost it with that person? Doubtful. Self-control is a powerful tool. I'm usually on the frontlines of battle ready to take on the world. It is so nurturing when someone else leads the charge. And not something that happens to me very often.

With approval verification numbers and blood test orders in hand, I headed for the lab downstairs.

An older, sweet little Chinese woman was my lab tech. She sat me down and poured over the requested tests. She pulled out eleven vials. And then she stopped and said, "Oh. One of these tests must be performed before twelve noon and it's now 4:00pm. It has to be sent to the Mayo Clinic. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

Now, for some people this might have been bad news. But for three hooligans set loose on the city of San Francisco, this was YAHOO! news. We had been finagling, trying to think up an excuse for staying one more day and failing. We don't really have the money to just spontaneously vacation. Especially in a city like San Francisco where the locals start each day by opening up the window, wadding up a $50 bill, and throwing it out. EVERYthing is expensive. Parking for the day can cost $30-$40. Thinking about parking is an automatic ten bucks.

So when we go, it's usually staying with a friend (who has her dear sister with her right now while said friend is facing her own health battles), or it's an up-and-back in one day. But what could we do? Budget or not, I had to come back the next day. This also meant our few hour trip to the museum would now have to be delayed until the next day when we could take our time and CLOSE THE PLACE DOWN! After the lab work, of course. We tried to be appropriately somber about this financial hit. We failed. We wouldn't get any richer sitting around wringing our hands so we took our joie de vivre and thrust ourselves upon San Francisco. We don't believe in receiving blessings and then lamenting them. If this was where God saw fit to drop us off for the night, who were we to complain?

More about that tomorrow.

Copyright 2009