Will she make it?

Here's what is done at the moment. I have until 8 pm to have this done, photographed, and the photos to FedEx. No rest for the wicked.

I have the side panels to sew onto here, the background quilting to be done, and the binding. Screw the hanging sleeve for now. I can add that later, along with the fancy label on back.

The finishing stuff will go on after the quilting. I will add some shadows to her hair to make it have some definition, and the bowstring will be adding in the quilting step, as will some metal studs on the armour and jewels on the wand.

Gotta run.

On being a Disabled American Veteran

Some twenty-odd years ago, I joined the Navy to see the world and get a college education. Mostly, I got to see a lot of Florida. But the point here is that during my service to my country, I injured my back on the job, which screwed up any plan of making the Navy a career. The good thing to come out of this was that college education now came free as part of my voc-rehab. The bad part would be I would find out how much the VA discriminated against women for the longest.

I was told upon discharge from the Navy that I should go directly to the Veteran's Affairs office and apply for that system. I did just that, getting an appointment for a C&P exam. I was also told that I wouldn't have to worry, the VA would up my disability rating, they always do.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. I went in for the evaluation, and the doctor there asked me questions such as "Are you married?" "Who does the laundry?" "Who does the shopping?" "Who does the housecleaning?" It appeared that if I was married, I had a husband TO TAKE CARE OF ME and therefore didn't need any compensation for an injury that usually gave a man a 100% rating. They "gave" me a 10% rating, patted me on the head and sent me on my way.

I did get into the VA hospital system; they could not deny me that because it was a service connected disablility. Twenty years ago, the way that the doctors handled someone who complained of pain was to give them enough drugs to make them a zombie, then they wouldn't squawk. I was given enough stuff to make me stupid, and I found I had little choice other than bear the pain of everyday living or take the drugs and forget about everything else. I chose not to take the drugs. I like to be able to find my ample backside with both hands.

After several years of no monthly compensation because I had drawn severance from the Navy, I found the Disabled American Veterans post, and joined. One of the local chapter members had been a National Service Officer at one point, and he kindly showed me the ropes of reapplying for increased benefits. (Even though it was painfully obvious that the old boys' club that was the DAV would rather have me sitting out with "the little women" of the Auxillary.)

My benefits increased to 40% with no problem, and the doctor who interviewed me this time was appalled to hear what the first doctor had said. But not appalled enough to raise my benefits above the 50% mark, which makes a huge difference in your standing in the VA pecking order.

A couple of years later, I went through the evaluation again, this time pulling 60%. I would have been very happy had I not known that one of the fellow vets from my post had just been awarded 100% for the very same injury I have. One the way home from the evals, he was bragging about the new boat he had just gotten, and how he really had put one over on the VA finally. I was fairly steamed.

The point of telling all this, I suppose, is to point out how the odds can get stacked against a person who is trying to get benefits. Just being female kept me from getting the same as someone else.

Today I drive a car with disabled plates bordered by a "DAV Life Member" frame. I still get countless dirty looks when I get out of my car, and people assume nothing is wrong because I don't use a chair. (Or they assume that my husband is the disabled vet. Funny now, because I don't have a husband any more.) They have no idea what kind of pain I deal with when I go shop for necessities. If I didn't have the plates, I would avoid places with large parking lots, because it would be all I could do to get into the store, much less spend a great deal of time shopping. As it is, I am dragging at the end of a grocery shopping trip. I hate it. But I am ABLE to deal with it because I did get the plates. (P.S. I never park in the "van" spaces. That just wouldn't be right.)

All is not bad, however. I would like to say that overall, the care I have received from the VA is very good. It's much better now that I have a 60% rating that makes me eligible for prescriptions without copay. Services for women veterans are also much more available. But I do see a lot of things evaporating as the government pulls money away from the VA healthcare system to pay for other budget shortfalls. That's no way to treat those who gave of themselves in service to the nation.

Thank you for reading.

Gettin' there

The characters are beginning to spring to life! Pyrus is pretty much done save for a few details, and I have the hair done on all of them. I don't have the beard done on Gunther yet. I may have to take a couple of test runs at that to determine how to do the best stubbly beard.

Once I get all the figure work done, I will cut away the layer of batting that I'm working on top of now, leaving batting only under the figures. The side panels will be squared up and placed with the main panel. The whole top will then be sandwiched with another layer of batting, and the backing. The background will be quilted, and we are thinking about leaves or possibly a castle turret. Woohoo!
This isn't photographed on a flat surface, so a bit of distortion is resulting. It will all make good sense when I get it flat on a wall and get a good overall shot.

Gunther looks odd with no beard! ; ) The belt buckle is a real one, and the belt is a 3D added piece. There will also be one on the archer chick; you can see that above Gunther's shoulder, where it hasn't been sewn in yet.

Flame on!

That refers to Pyrus' hair. Not a lot to report today, even though progress was made. I found out what NOT to do the next time I attempt this type of project...I will NOT use a fusible bonding agent underneath the applique pieces for this type of work where I am doing freemotion embroidery over the applique. I've found it gums up the needle and causes the thread to fray horribly.

I'm using Metafil size 80/12 needles, and Sulky rayon embroidery thread. The fabrics are all 100% cotton, some from Red Rooster fabrics, and some hand-dyed. This is what I've used on all my other embroidery projects, and it has to be the fusible that is causing the grief. I normally do almost all of the freemotion embroidery without any applique, but the size of this piece (51 inches square) would make it impractical.

I did finish the second Celtic knotwork panel, so that intricate stuff will not be making me crazy at the last minute. I hope. I'm sure that something will go awry, and make me sweat bullets before this is over. Ah, but that's half the fun!

Keeping odd hours

That's really nothing new for me. It's 5 am, and I've been up all night doing the Celtic knot border for the quilt. This was fun, but quite the challenge. To keep me entertained while I worked, I put on a couple of movies. First I watched Sneakers, which always makes me think about the fact that Frank Miller modeled his version of Matt Murdock after a young Robert Redford. After watching that, and the "making of" portion of the dvd which I had not seen before. I put on the director's cut of Daredevil, which I haven't watched for at least THREE months! Travesty! Yeah, it's as good as I remembered ; )

Here's a close up of the knotwork. In the far off view, the purple part doesn't show up much. I may have to use some contrast thread in the quilting to make it show better. There's way too much work there for it to not show.

I just spoke on Yahoo Messenger with Wonder Alice. She has had a migraine today, and so did I earlier. I slept most of the day trying to get rid of it, and didn't wake up again until almost 10 pm. It was down to a dull roar, so I was able to get work done on the quilt again. There wasn't enough on the main part that I accomplished to even document. But it's progressing nicely, and I work well under a deadline.

Shaping up

Not me! The quilt project! As you can gather here, things are looking up. I found some sparkly things today to use to add to the wizard's wand, and a good rough leather-looking fabric for Gunther's boots.

This is the part where I look at the project and know it will all come together, but I know other people really aren't feeling it yet...




This is most of the applique cutting, and the next step will be to start the thread painting details. That's the fun part, when the figures take on dimensions and the various textures start to show. I should have the faces all done tomorrow.

More Work in Progress

This is how we build a quilt...

Step one: Trash through the extensive fabric stash for that one piece that is PERFECT for Pyrus' hair, Gunther's boots, or the archer's outfit. The inner sanctum of the domestic goddess will remain in total chaos until the project is finished.

Who wants to clean up when you are in manic creative mode? Not me.

The pattern is traced onto a fusible webbing, placed on the back of the specific fabric, and cut out. K got introduced tonight to the joys of pinning patterns to fabric.

This is Gunther's hair and his collar to his cape. On the white sheet behind are random pieces of his armour waiting to be cut out.

This is the elven(sp?) archer's face and headpiece.

We will be working this piece from the background to the foreground.

The pieces are assembled and pressed onto the background fabric with a small Clover iron. I have to wear white gloves when I work with fabric. A few years ago, I developed the occupational hazard of dye allergies. My hands crack open and bleed when I handle fabric if I don't wear these lovely designer gloves with the fingertips cut off.

Details will be added when the stitching begins. All the facial features and garment details will be done in free motion machine embroidery.

We had to quit at midnight. K has to go back to her real job, and I have to go to Memphis to the VA for an eye exam. I do hope it doesn't take all day.

Work in progress

Sometimes what seems should be the easy part of a project isn't. Once you settle on a design, picking fabric can be quite the challenge, especially if you are working out of your current stash rather than going out and buying from scratch.

I think I have pulled through every piece of fabric I own, and friends, let me tell you, I could stock a small store with what I have in the collection. Nearly twenty years of serious fabric collecting, and I haven't even bought any in the past couple of years.

What you see here is the background fabrics that I have decided on for the Shining Armor project. The mossy green will be the major part, and the wheat print will be the background behind the Celtic knotwork pattern I've put together for the flanking panels. I've chosen fabrics for the characters' clothes, hair, skin tone, and the binding. There most certainly will be things that I will decide won't work, once I'm started sewing, but I have to make hay whether the sun shines or not in the next week. Photos of the completed 51" square quilt must be in by May 1, 2006.

Here is the full scale pattern for the Celtic knotwork border. It measures 7 inches wide by 49 inches long, and will run vertically on either side of the main characters. It will be woven of 1/4 inch wide bias tubing, in purple and a steely blue.

The reason for the red at the top? I forgot to change out the divider sheet in the printer and why waste a good print when it doesn't matter? These will be made by putting a piece of waxed paper over the pattern and weaving the knots, dabbing a bit of fabric glue at the intersections to hold everything together. When that is done, I will gently slide them onto the background fabric, pin and glue them in place, and stitch them down. Or that's the plan right now. 8 )

The goal for tomorrow is to get some of the first parts of the characters worked onto the mossy background. I will be appliqueing the fabrics onto the background, adding the precise details with machine freeform embroidery. Most of the threads have already been chosen, too, so what is left is to get rolling on this bad boy, and do it up right. Stay tuned.

Serendipity

Easter Sunday has come once more, and I was privileged enough to get to spend it with my mother. I got up this morning and prepared one of her favorite meals, chicken and dumplings (the puffy kind, not the flat rolled ones) and took it out to her at the nursing home. I had arranged yesterday for the ex to meet me there, because my mother had asked about him. He has always been good to her, and went above and beyond the call of duty when she was living in our home. My mother was quite surprised when he walked in her room, and cried when he hugged her. I think this is probably the first time in almost two years she has seen him, because of our breakup.

Mama and Mrs. Harris, her roommate, were very pleased with the dumplings, and made quick work of them. We went out to the front parlor area, and sat with my mother and talked a little and watched a couple of old comedies on TV Land. It was a pleasant day, and afterwards, the ex and I did a quick run through at Big Lots for some groceries. He hates to shop, and for some reason lately, has been asking me to accompany him. Odd, since he would never go with me before.

The high pollen count is still giving me a terrible time, so I downed some antihistamines and went to lie down for a while. I must have been tired, as I slept until almost 8 pm. I checked email, talked briefly with a couple of online friends, and cruised by a couple of blogs. As I was getting ready to sign into this blog to make an entry, I saw on the scrolling blogs that were being updated "wonder alice". Of course, that got me curious. Down the rabbithole that is the internet I went.

By extreme coincidence, wonder alice is also going through the problems of macular degeneration, but the wet form, which is so much more devastating than what I've been through up to this point with the dry form. She lives in Japan, and by reading her blog, I got the pleasure of seeing many views of the sakuras, something I only got to do once, and it was in Washington, D.C. instead of Japan. Still a beautiful memory for me.

Through her excellent photo blogging, wonder alice has rekindled my desire for some of the wonderful Asian cuisine that I sampled during my tour of duty on Okinawa. She also has something else in common with me...a love of floral design. Even though I no longer do it on a regular basis, the skills come in handy on occasion. Just the other day, when rearranging a lot of things in my flat, I came across several of my ikebana containers and the heavy pin frogs I bought off the base in Kadena and Naha. I must try my hand at this again. It does wonders for your soul to work with nature's beauty.

I have a lot to do this coming week, and I hope I can get it all done. So, if you don't see me around quite as much, it's because I'm concentrating in the inner sanctum of the domestic goddess, aka the sewing room.

The Ides of April

I've never been one to jump on a bandwagon, mostly because I couldn't catch it. If I did catch it, I'd have to have someone give me a hand to hoist me up there. So, what am I doing here, adding my blog to Blogging Against Disablism Day on May 1?

Maybe I will come up with something insightful by then. I hope so. Right this moment, it is 0416 and I am rather fried after a long day of helping celebrate my mother's eighty-sixth birthday, and doing a few other things important only to myself.

****

I would like to say that I do not think Tiger Woods would have intentionally used the "s-word" had he known the connotations it has outside the US. I know it was a phrase that I have heard and probably used over the years without having any clue it was considered bad taste in other places. It's another case of two countries being separated by that common language again. Here in the good old U S of A, a bum is a guy who is too lazy to work for a living. Until recently, when a friend sent me a great dictionary of American/British terms, I didn't know it could be a part of your anatomy. Ah, semantics.

Tied up in knots

This evening, my friend K and I worked on our collaboration for a quilt contest that I want to enter. Actually, we are working on two quilts; one with her artwork, and one with her fiance's art. This is what you see here.

I decided to fill in some of the border space with Celtic knotwork. There won't be gaps in it, that's just where I dropped the repeats to see how they would fit. Adjustments will be made to fit the space. I haven't completely decided if I will do it with bias tape woven in and out, or if I will do it with quilting stitches to be less competitive with the interior art, which is rather elaborate on its own. I think I will have to get the center done first, then figure that out.

All I know is that I must get cracking on it. The jury slides have to be in by May 2.

Shock

One of my best friends just told me that her longtime boyfriend had a massive stroke early this morning, and he has been declared brain dead. I missed her phone call because I forgot to stick my cell phone in my pocket on the way out the door to the post office. I had a few groceries to put up, and didn't look at the phone right away.

I had powered up the computer and was checking email when I saw her come online in a messenger service. I had just been thinking about calling her, because we are collaborating on a project right now. I casually asked her what's up, as is normal, and got one of the great shocks of my life. She first said she didn't know what to do, and I had no idea what had happened. So I learned of K's tragedy on an IM. As things go, I am glad I had left the phone, because if I had been driving when she told me, I think I might have had a wreck.

I picked up the cell and called her immediately, and they were on the way to the hospital to meet with the chaplain and make arrangements for organ donation. I don't want to be in the way right now, and my best intentions feel very feeble to me. God help me to be there for her.

My own father died in the same way. I was barely fifteen and remember it like yesterday. One moment your loved one is there, then suddenly, they are not. Words are failing me...

It takes so little to make me happy...

This has been an outstanding week so far. My sister visited, her kids didn't tear up my house, and she brought me the Elektra Barbie that I wanted so badly. (I think that I have mentioned here before about her barely beating a fanboy to the last one on the shelf.)

Then I get a package in the post from R in the UK who kindly sent me one of the UK exclusive lead figures of Daredevil, along with a great magazine-style book with the highlights of forty years of the comics. It's an awesome sculpt for a figure only about three and a half inches tall.

Today was quite a surprise, though. I was lazily perusing the Bendis messageboards, and clicked on Michael Lark's board. There was a preview to some art for DD issue #85, and beside it, a note to me. Now, just how cool is that? It's the art you see here above.

I need to scrape myself off the ceiling and go get busy. Heh.

Hail! Hail! The Bang's all here...

This just in...some really big hail out here. I am afraid to go look at my car. I know with hail this big, it's bound to have beat it up somewhat. Oh, well, that's why I buy insurance, eh?

There were tornados in the area, and we still have watches until 9 PM. There have been no deaths, but a lot of damage. I really hate that part of living in this area, the middle of Tornado Alley.

Tales from the VA

Where do I start this? I guess with getting D to drive me to the VA, when he didn't even get two blocks from my house before he was bitching that his leg was hurting him. (He fell off the back stair at the parts dept sometime last month. Had he gone to PT like the doctor recommended, he probably wouldn't be having this much trouble, but I digress.)

As I learned to do over the course of the past 30 years, I acknowledged the complaint with a meaningless "uh huh", and let it go. There was no more conversation until ten miles down the road when he said he couldn't hear the radio, so he was going to turn
it up. Fine...I couldn't hear it either for the road noise of those gigantic off-road mudgrip tires he has on that truck. So he spent the next half hour switching stations, which has always been a source of annoyance for me. I looked out the window at the freshly plowed and very wet fields that will be planted in cotton in a couple of months. The view is different when you are way up in the air in a monster truck.

We stopped in West Memphis, AR, to go to the Burger King for lunch before we braved the VA. He bought lunch, which I said I would do, and we both got an Angus cheddar burger that was great (sorry, I cannot be a vegan, heheh). He inhaled his and what was left of my fries before I could get done with the burger. Nothing new there, except he didn't say that one more just like it and he'd be fine, which he used to always say.

We got across the river without incident, because any sort of traffic mishap will block the bridge for miles, and prepared to have to circle the parking lot of the VA. As luck would have it, there was a space near the Clinic Annex where you have to go sign in before you go see ANY of the doctors in the entire hospital. So happens that it is also on the farthest most point in the campus if you have to park in the East Lot...so we were double lucky. Whoop.

D was going to buy a paper to read, but the paper machine wasn't functioning, so he had nothing to do while I was there. I signed in at the clinic check-in, and Dan decided that he would park his oversized frame on one of the couches that was right there, and that he would wait for me in that spot. In other words, he couldn't be arsed to walk with me to the eye clinic.

I moseyed on down to the eye clinic check-in, and gave the lady there my paperwork, then took a seat in the waiting area as she directed. My appointment was for 1:15, and it was only 12:30. I sat down and started brailling out my little business cards for the shirts with the business card slate I ordered off ebay. The damn thing only has 11 cells across, so I had to do the first part of the phone number, then flip the card over and finish the line. By the time I did the fifteenth one, I had it down pat.

That was when I heard my name on the page system, and when I went back to the desk, the lady said, someone will be out in a few minutes to get you. So I sat back down and waited some more. After listening to the damn Divorce Court on tv, I was ready to blow out of there. I finally asked her why I hadn't seen anyone yet. Oh, she said, I didn't realise you were here for Ophthalmology. WTF? SHE is the one who handed me a paper when I first got there which was written in at least 24 point type with OPHTHALMOLOGY across the top! She directed me to another waiting room down the hall.

I went in there, sat down again. No one around. I decided I would go find out where the hell I was supposed to be. I grabbed the first person who looked like she might work there and asked if I needed to check in AGAIN. She hauled my paperwork off down another hall, and shortly, someone took me in to do the preliminary screening.

Was it just me, or were the letters getting smaller? She ran me through the eye chart and took my glasses to see what the prescription was. It just now hit me that they did not do a pressure check. Oh, well, glaucoma is not my problem, yet. (My mother has it.)

I was escorted to another room and young Dr. K came in. I remember him from the last time. He's very nice, but has a fishy handshake. Ugh. He pulled up my files on the computer and with an "uh...huh" turned to take me through the next phase. The requisite bright light torture, then he said they would dilate my eyes and be back for me in about 20 minutes. I had to go back out in the waiting area where Divorce Court was still blasting away. I couldn't reach the damn controls, or I would have turned it off. By this time, I was alone.

Dr. K came back for me, and we start the torture again. He says, "You really are sensitive in the right eye, aren't you?" I'm thinking, duh, no, I cry like this all the time. He runs through the eye chart with me again, this time through the funky lens thing, and I couldn't get a good focus out of any of it. When he started that which is clearer, one or two, I couldn't tell much difference unless he went way off. At one point the legs on the E's started to bend. That was very strange.

Final deal was, he gave me a prescription for a new pair of glasses, which he even told me might not make a lot of difference. (Remember, the private doc told me not to waste my money now on a new pair.) He scheduled me to come back in two months for the fluorscein angiogram, because he said he couldn't see a lot going on that was radically different, but my vision is definitely worse from 6 months ago.

I went across the hall to the optician, and actually had a choice of frames. Of course they are not GOOD frames, like the ones I have now, but they look similar. At least they weren't like the "birth control" frames they gave people in boot camp. (So ugly you have no hope of getting laid.) I asked about progressive bifocals, and was told they will not make those. I've never had bifocals with a line in them, and don't want to start now. But free is free. I also asked if I could get a tinted pair for driving, but they won't do that either. However, since I have had cataract surgery, they will tint this pair. So I had to settle for a gradiant tint. They will be on my doorstep in about a month. Who knows if I will even be able to use them? And, it's not like I'm going to get them adjusted when they arrive. Unless I drive to Memphis. Pfffft.

I got my next appointments scheduled, got my travelpay voucher, and took it to the agent cashier to collect my $9.40 travel pay. (That won't even do the gas in MY car, let alone his truck.) D was sitting right where I left him, and it was now 3:25. He said he heard them page me at 1:32.

Now the fun part. Going outside. Thank heavens it decided to cloud up sometime between when we left the building and when we crossed the bridge back into AR. I had a headache and my eyes were tearing something fierce. At least it wasn't bright sunshine like it had been on the way over.

Very little conversation on the way home. I told him about the new freebie glasses and having to come back in 2 months. I'm sure he hopes I can find another ride. This next appt is on a Monday, so I will check to see if the DAV has a van going that day. If not, I guess I will worry about it closer to the time.

He dropped me off at my place, but didn't get out. He complained that he had to go to the grocery store because he didn't have any bread. I believe that if I still lived there, he would not get off his ass from the time he walked in the door until time to go back to work. (Wait...that's how it was when I DID live there!) Things are civil, but I am still very glad to be here by myself with just two cats, instead of a herd.

So, that's the news from here.

What is it about men in tights?

I've been watching Chad Hendrick, the Texan, win his gold medal in the men's speed skating event. As he was whuppin' up on the competition, I was standing in the kitchen, grilling some shish kebobs, minus the veggies (so is that a shish-less kebob, or a kebob-less shish?), and finding myself actually swaying in time to this guy blasting down the ice.

His emotions had bubbled to the surface earlier in the day, making for increased drama for the commentators. Seems this is the anniversary of his grandmother's death, and she was one of his biggest cheerleaders when he was growing up. For a guy who only rollerbladed up until four years ago, this was an amazing performance. After the definite victory, he said he had written her name across the front of one of his skates, and he was going for it for her. Kinda cool, I thought. Not to mention that Chad looks great in tights.

The pairs figure skating is on tonight too. I am one of the klutziest people on earth, so the grace and poise of skaters has me living a vicarious moment, every time I watch it. I can only skate in my dreams, and once in a while, I get to do it, without the requisite busting of my rather ample arse. In my dreams, I get to wear that sparkly skater's dress, and the glistening skates carry me swiftly across a frozen landscape. I'm thin, I'm lithe, and I'm almost floating. I am grateful for my nighttime fantasies. They make the reality somehow easier to take, as strange as that sounds.

And the guy who is skating with me? Man, does he look great in tights! And usually they are red ones. Heh.

Something unusual happened last night. I went to bed before midnight.

I am trying to get back into a semi-normal mode of sleep, whatever that really is. The goal is to sleep for at least 6 hours straight, and that just doesn't seem to happen. I assume my frequent awakenings are the reason I remember my dreams.

Unusual thing #2: I picked up on the same dream after I woke up the first time. Or a version of the same dream, I guess. Some friends were getting me together (quite a task in itself) to take me to O & M rehab. I was balking somewhat, finding excuses not to get out the door, and also having trouble finding all the things I was supposed to take with me, notably my white cane. When I did find it, it was under the edge of my bed, and missing the tip.

In part 2, they were still trying to get me ready to go, but it was like a comedy of errors. I kept insisting that I pack a few more things, and now I couldn't find my sunglasses. Someone asked if they were red, and I said "Hell, no, who do you think I am, Matt Murdock?" Then all these people dragged me out to a waiting car that was already overstuffed with other people and various types of luggage. I was crawling over a large duffle when I woke up. Geez.

If nothing else, maybe someone can get a laugh out of my subconscience.

Now if I only had good sense...

Ever get a little bored and want to try that Tickle IQ test? Well, I did for some reason.

Congratulations, ********!

Your IQ score is 133

This number is based on a scientific formula that compares how many questions you answered correctly on the Classic IQ Test relative to others.

Your Intellectual Type is Visionary Philosopher. This means you are highly intelligent and have a powerful mix of skills and insight that can be applied in a variety of different ways. Like Plato, your exceptional math and verbal skills make you very adept at explaining things to others — and at anticipating and predicting patterns. And that's just some of what we know about you from your IQ results.

Ok, is this what everybody gets back from this test? I would love to know. End of time wasted.

What's in a name?

Was just messing around and had to look mine up:

Alice

Add to My Favorite Names

Origin Meaning Old German noble Greek truth

Traits: Most people think of Alice as "Alice in Wonderland"--a young daydreamer who is gregarious and free-spirited. Some, though, see her as a prissy old homebody.

Famous people with this name: Lewis Carroll's children's story Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, rock singer Alice Cooper; actress Alice Faye; TV character Alice (The Honeymooners) Kramden; Arlo Guthrie's song "Alice's Restaurant"

Winter Solstice

Toby wishes you all a very happy holiday, whatever kind you celebrate.

*****

I'm trying to figure out how this house got into such a state of disarray. Certainly it must be the cats, because I'm not this messy.

Things here are filed in vertical chronilogical order. Yesterday, one of those files began an avalanche, and there was no stopping it. I countered by going to bed, where there is no avalanche zone, and sleeping a marathon in which I dreamed of going to an Episcopal church with my mother (the only time she ever stepped foot in one was for my first wedding) and winding up falling asleep in the pew, and waking up with only my skirt and bra on. Then I could not find the blouse I had worn in there. To add insult to injury, they ran out of communion wafers before they got to me. Wait til I tell this one to the shrink.

I awoke midevening, with a splitting headache and no desire to clean the avalanche. I downed some pain relief, and the usual nighttime medications and decided to see if I could sleep all night, which is something I haven't done in ages. That resulted in a dream also about my family, in which I was at my sister's house, and it was a sight worse than the avalanche I had avoided in reality here. What is it about you are better able to deal with someone else's mess than your own? I kept grousing at my sister for her slovenly ways, and my mother was there, once again, taking up for her. After all, my sister has CHILDREN and therefore is not responsible for any messy housekeeping practices. This sort of dream recurrs, where my mother absolves my sister of any misdoings, but punishes me relentlessly for the same. Ah, the middle child syndrome is alive and well in me.

I have finished all my orders to be shipped out, and since I don't shop for the holidays, I am pretty much done. I have some major housecleaning to do, so I can begin the new year in a bit better shape. I hope.

There it is. My exciting life these days. Oh, and Ringo says Happy New Year, too.