One More Down

Because I've been troubled of late with broken family issues I did feel a small sigh of "Glad that is over." blues a bit by the end of the day.

My memory harkened back to large family gatherings at Grandma's house.  Good food!  Good conversation!  Good times!

Grandma was a wonder of diplomacy, strong but in a loving kind way, the kind of person you just wanted to be good for.  We all were better people at grandma's house, and we thanked her for it.  She was a good cook too.  (And she loved me for who I was.)

By the time she died, there were no less than 27 at her table(s) in her small little house for Thanksgiving.

Those lovely crammed holidays were wonderful.  We played together, laughed together, enjoyed each other.

I will always miss it...  Or maybe just miss her.

I am moving forward.  I know that I will get use to the fact that those days have been gone from my life for a long time now.  And that they are not coming back.

Mountain Man and I had a lovely time of our own yesterday.  We shared our little feast with the dog and cat.  We sat and watched the parade and football together.  We played a game.  We looked over the snowy landscape out the window and snuggled by the woodstove.

It wasn't a Grandma Thanksgiving, but it was wonderful in its own right.

I'm gonna' get the hang of this new life I have.  And I think I'll be a lot better for it.

Happy Thanksgiving Day to all

Have a Happy Thanksgiving all who are celebrating today.

And Then It Snowed Charlie Brown

Still sick but feeling some what better.

Snow for today 4 to 8 inches.  More, less?  I'm still staying inside this time around.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

Today I'll rest.  Do a little decorating for tomorrow.

And dream up replacements, for the things I didn't shop for because I was sick, that were suppose to grace the table.

Let me see...

Apple Crumble for the Pumpkin Pie.

Cranberry Tea instead of Cranberry Sauce (Gotta have those Cranberries in there.)

Bread Pudding instead of Dressing.  (Grandma always made her bread pudding out of stale cake.  And I'm still too tired to bake bread from scratch.  I don't have one of those bread machine things.  And we're out of bread.)

And the rest I still have to figure out.

Thankful anyway.  We're gonna' have a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving around here this year.

Getting Colder. Warmer? Colder!

So we went to the doctor/clinic.

Mountain Man has a cold.

I have a sinus infection (Again!) and strep throat.  On with the meds.

How does he do that.  He so rarely gets sick.  And never as bad as I do.

Anyway I'm to bed.

Tissues?  Check!

Book?  Check!

Knitting?  Check!

Nook?  Check!  (Youtube music and solitair.)

Mug of soup?  Check!  (Black bean. Yum!)

See you when I can think straight again.

Time Slides Sickwise

Is it me or time itself sliding sideways?

I just can't get a hold of it these days.

Holiday prep, hunting season about to start for Mountain Man, being sick, and new patterns in both of our lives with the seasons changing.  (Winter coming early again this year.)

In truth I'm not the only one around here having trouble with time.

The pets are still fighting the time change with the daylight savings time change.  Its now a demand for two feedings an hour apart.

Mountain Man keeps on asking me 'What day is it?' to the point that I just point to the calendar to the first day with no 'X' through it every time he gets a quizzical look on his face.

Mountain Man and I have been fighting a head cold kind of thing that won't quit and changes from day to day.  One day nose, next throat, after that nose again, then ears, and on and on.  If its Tuesday, I must need throat lozenges, kind of thing.  But its Monday and my head is all stuffy and my eyes keep on watering and its hard to see what I'm doing.  (Blink, blink.)  Where did I leave those blasted tissues again?

Time does take on a strange quality when one is sick.  Its a good thing we are not going anywhere for Thanksgiving or having anyone here this year.  This years plan is for a quiet, low key holiday and I think we need it.

And if this sick thing doesn't improve by the weekend.  Mountain Man is going to have to miss the first day of deer hunting season next monday.  I'm not letting him out with a gun in the woods if he's been feeling anything like I have for the last few days.  He'd trip on a tree and shoot himself in the back.

How can a teeny tiny little germ you can't even see lay one so low, and make one so stupid all of a sudden?

I keep on getting out of bed and doing my daily thing because its not that bad of a head cold, no fever or anything.  But still the time keep on slipping sickwises.

It just might be time to call the doctor.

Mind Slip

Sorry I didn't post yesterday.  It slipped my mind.

I went to the computer completely ready, willing and able to blog.  But I started with reading other peoples postings... and the dog needed to go out first... and the cat fell a sleep on the window sill and fell off...  And we laughed until we cried because she didn't get hurt just insulted.

And I walked away to start my day thinking I was done, but I didn't get back to my blogging.

So I'll start a new streak of daily blogging today.

I hope you have something to laugh about in your day too.  We are still laughing about that silly cat.

More like a Moth

I have to say that I am sorry to anyone that had a troubling time with my little breakdown.  I had a need that was not being filled in any other way so I came to my Gothy cyber friends.  Some wonderful people came to my aid.  (I thank them with all I have to give in my humble heart.)  I am bruised and dusty but I will get up and move on.

You’d have thought I wouldn’t need people like those in my family in my life and I’d be happy to be well rid of them.  But I kept on telling myself that they are family and diluting myself that in being family it would eventually work out to the good.

In total it is not as bad as when I lost my son in a car accident fifteen years ago. That this loss of unsupportive harpies would not compare, but in some ways I think it made the loss worse.   They knew I had been through the hell fire of loss already and they chose to be cruel anyway.  Conspired to be.  I was still fragile where family funerals were concerned and that was when they chose to strike.

Enter helpful Gothy cyber friends:
So after a few cyber hugs my Gothy heart was restarted and I unfolded my rumple wings like a moth from a cocoon.

I am not a phoenix.  I didn’t rise triumphant from the ashes.   But I do rise with the help of others who are stronger than me at the moment or if not strong physically, they are understanding and giving which is a different kind of strength.  

I will, no doubt, hover too close to persons who will cause me pain once again.  It is part of relationships to have some conflict and to grow from the experience.

I also know that I am not totally healed yet.  That will take a bit more time.

All in all I am better off without those family members in my life.  No one needs a pack of mean vindictive people hanging around them.  It sours everything that is good.  It was the loss of hope that broke me.  Hope that some day true acceptance would come about.  False hope to be sure.

But hope is the candle in the dark.  The flame to which we flit.  It keeps us alive to live another day.  It lights our dreams.

Today I am a moth.

Is anybody there?

I know that my finding out that I'm old is not all that interesting to you.

But it was an earth shattering moment for me.

And it will happen to you someday, time willing.

I know that you don't really want to hear it.  But it will.

I'm not a mirror person.

Oh I have mirrors.  Lots of them in every room of the house.  Placed mainly to move light around, create the illusion of space, or make a point of interest.

I just don't look at my reflection.

I don't interest me, I guess.

I'll look to see if my clothing is right.  If there is a smudge on my face, or my hair is straight.

(I don't do makeup daily.  Only when I go out to an event.)

So surprise, surprise!  I got old when I wasn't looking.

Now I have to face time and its aging process.

I've looked the Grim Reaper in the face a few times already.

I think that I didn't believe I'd get this far.

But here I am.

Feeling alone, lost and asking for help.

With no extended family support any longer and no local Goth community to go to, where can this old Goth go for support, comfort and friendship but the Goth family she has adopted as her own on the web.

But at the moment I'm feeling a bit like the hot potato that hit the floor and got all smashed so nobody wants it any longer.

I am sorry if I'm talking about something you can't relate to or would rather avoid.  But at the moment I need to know that someone out there still wants me around a while longer.  My family doesn't.

Is it time for me to just fade away?  Stop blogging?   Crawl in a corner and die?

No, I'm not suicidal.  Just a little tired of rejection.  And sitting in a room full of people all talking and laughing with each other and finding myself alone again, shunted off into a corner, just left me feel sad yesterday.

The center is great fun when there is an activity but a very lonely place when you have no friends there.  The wait between class's can be tiring when you're being systematically ignored again for being the strange one in the room.

If I'm not useful here, I'll go away.  No one likes listening to ever expanding silence when they've shown a need for a hug.

A little hug, Please?

In a Questionable Mood

Okay I'll admit it.  I've been in a mood.

I had hoped it would break or dissolve away and I could get on with life.

But it didn't and I'll have to learn to adjust I guess.

I joined a Senior Center.  Yes, one of those places for old farts to park for the day because they have no where else to go to get out of the house.

But its not like that really.  Its more like a club where we all the members remember where we were when JFK died.

I'll admit that my Gothy self is a bit shy of the place.  Sunny and bright, busy and festive, games and lots of things to do.  All types of exercise classes and dancing too.

For a mere five dollars a year I get to miss the odd looks at the college gym as I trudged off to yoga class that cost me eight dollars a session with young things that can make their bodys do the most...  You get the picture.

So I switched.  I'm now with my own set....   What!!!!!

So I'm old.  Wrinkly...  A S-e-n-i-o-r C-i-t-i-z-e-n.

The trouble is I don't feel old.  I feel the same.

I may not want to hang out with teenagers all the time, but I don't feel like I need to be cast off just yet.

When did this getting old thing happen to me?  Well, to tell the truth, years ago.

I couldn't stop it.

The days just kept on going by.

I've been eligible for some time now.  I fought it.

'Not for me.'  I said.  'Not a place for gothy types.'  'Too happy in a very sad sort of way.'  'It has bingo.'  (Enough said.)

I go at least once a week now.  Belly dancing, Tai chi, group jigsaw puzzles, crafting groups, knitting/crochet groups, line dancing, aerobics...  The list goes on.

Some people still stare.  But the comments now are more likely to be 'My grandson/daughter wears that stuff and I kinda like it, but I can't tell my son/daughter that.'

So I guess I'll just have to get use to the fact that I'm getting older.  Thing is, I think I'm gonna' try to find the fun in doing it.  And some of that fun is at my Senior Center.  Go figure!

Forgetful Fear

Looking at the screen here I ran a blank.

I did have some things to say when I sat down.

Don't you hate when that happens.

It doesn't make me feel old.  (Mountain Man always asks me that questions when it happens as we talk.)

This 'running a blank' has happened to me all my life.

It makes me feel small and lost.

As a child I would occasionally get lost.  It didn't frighten me.  I just went about rectifying the situation.

But having a memory hiccup does.  It is more than being lost in a place.  It is a disconnect to everything.  Set adrift for a moment.  No safety.  No tether.  What if I can't get back?

I look at people who are old and feeble, lost in their own minds and it makes me shudder.  It was the hardest part of my job as an elder care worker.

Yes, I and others were there to take care of their bodies, but where were they stuck in their heads.  Was it a beautiful peaceful place?  Or were they stuck in a place feeling lost and small and all alone?

My greatest fear is being stuck in that place.  And worse yet my care takers are not likely to dress me in the dark Victorian funeral wear I so enjoy.

I'll be stuck in a place of loud bright colors.  Unable to scream for help.  Lost and small and all alone unable to communicate until I die.

That scares the ba-gee-bers out of me.

Where was I again…Changes

Okay, now that the house is back to some semblance of order.  I’m feeling slow but much better than I had been and food has now been restocked.

Back to business.   Let’s see where was I…

Facebook?  No. I’ve beaten that dead horse.
Halloween?  No.  That one has pass for this year.

On to the next holiday.

Thanksgiving.

So the pilgrims wanted to worship and moved to the new world.  They did their harvest festival thing, also thanking their god, and this American overeating holiday is born.

There has always been harvest feasts to be sure.  But here in the states we have perfected the art of poultry gluttony.  People, mostly in family groups, will get together.  Tables will groan with piles of food.  Over fed turkeys with stuffing inside will be consumed to excess.  And we will all call it good.

This will be followed by a dessert starring pumpkin pie among other treats and goodies.

There will be parades and football.  Leftovers will be distributed.  Holiday shopping will be planned.

I do mock.  I complain yearly that the day has been consumed with apathy and greed.

But still I participate.

I will roast the perfect bird.  Stuffing will dress the table.  Over eating will commence.

Not by me mind you.  I’m allergic to poultry.  I don’t do gluten and there are eggs in that pumpkin pie.  Allergies again.

This in no way colors my take on the holiday.  I used to do all of those things in abundance before my poultry allergy blossomed.

Together my husband, Mountain Man, and I will do the traditional thing as we do every year.  He with his traditional food and football while I do my fake versions of the foods on my side of the table after watching the parade.  We will eat too much.  Complain about the leftovers in the frig.   And eat some more.

It leaves me lacking.  Maybe it is the fact that my family is so fractured and has been for some time.  I’ll never again have those family Thanksgivings at my grandmothers house like I used to when I was young.

Its not the food it’s the love of extended family that is gone from my life.

I will take on a new outlook.  I must if I’m to survive the day.

Its not my losses but the abundance I have that I will concentrate on, as it should be.

And I will be thankful.

Getting Better, I Think???

So I've been in bed with an ear infection for a few days.

I'm feeling some what better and felt that I could contribute to the household chores once more.

But to my surprise my being sick apparently gave the house permission to go mess happy.

I'm not naming names here, but someone didn't put things away.  Anything away.

I understand about laundry and dishes piling high.  But in or around the sink/washer.

Not all over the house!

Look here.  I'm not the mess police.  I have made my fair share of clutter.  But really?!?

The house looks like a frat house the day after full party mode.

I know that we all have our jobs to do.  You're busy and so am I.

But when did I become your private maid?  When did you stop pulling your weight?  When did you forget that dropping and dumping things was not a grown up way to live?

I just want to go back to bed but I won't.  I'm too afraid of what would happen next.

Gotta, go clean something to make myself feel better.

Now I never thought I'd be saying that in my lifetime.  But some how it is true.

What just happened here.

I must have woken in an alternate reality.  He got messy and I got a cleaning bug.

Hope to be up and about soon

Been too sick to knit!

Facebook Bad - Social Games Good

Okay now, the title really tells it all.

Facebook has been collecting things it really shouldn’t about you and hopes that you will spend all your time there and spend all your money there too.  Very Bad!!!

Social Games are fun to play but you can find them free elsewhere.  There is a listing here to get you started.

Most require an email account to play and/or have in your face advertising.  To avoid ads and requests to your personal email by make a new separate email persona and use it for all your gaming sites.

Some games require you to actively recruit friends.

There are old games, new games, and even cute Hello Kitty games and all for free.  From small single player games to large multi player MMORPG worlds.

So far I’ve found that Big Farm plays the most like ‘Royal Story’ but there is no cute main character.  You can find it by the link above or other places on line to play.

Up side of Big Farm - you don’t have to actively ask friends to join up.  You can make your own co-op or join one looking for members.  There are small noises that go off when something needs your attention so you can get up from your screen and still play.

Down side - you can only build, or up grade, one building at a time and they can take a long time to build.  The music is repetitive but can be easily turned off.

Lots of side quests, goals and challenges, most with no time limit.   Missions have a time limit for you to gather the most of a called for item, against a small group of other random players.  Win or loose nets you needed stuff.  And there are roaming worker that randomly have a question mark over their heads every few seconds.  Run your cursor over them for random stuff from money to goods.

Work your way up the levels to make a dream farm world of your own.  They kind of hit you hard at first trying to get you to do too many things at once.  But if you take your time you’ll easily get the hang of it.  The pace goes up and down depending on your choices.

If you are looking for other types of games like the Match 3 type King Games has a lot of their games on facebook.  Free at the homes site Candy Crush Saga, Pet Rescue…  as do other sites.

True some games are only on facebook but we don’t need facebook to have free game fun.  And I’m not going to spend any of my time there.

Enough said!

Facebook - Now that is Scary.

Facebook - Now that is Scary.

Okay, so I tried to get into my old facebook account to shut it down.  I figured that if I’m not ever going to use it again why confuse people?

I made a typing misstep and got all caught up in their newer security measures.

They asked for my cell phone number.

Great, there is no cell phone number attached to that account because I didn’t have a cell phone back when I got on.

I try to get around the question.

Surely with all the people out there on facebook others have not filled in that particular blank or like me had no cell phone number at the time they started their account.

I tried further.  Thinking that, like other sites, I would receive a reply via email with a way past this mess.

But no.  What they then wanted was my Social Security Identification number.  What does facebook want with my SSI number?  Why are they even asking?

Yes, it is good that facebook has security measures in place but why use that kind of personal info.

If facebook ever gets hacked a lot of people are up a creek without a paddle.

But I won’t be one of them.  Lady E never gives her real birthday out, ever!

Let me know if you find a place with similar games with no friends attached.  I just love those collection and expansion of lands with little or no battles, where I can put the houses and stuff anywhere I want.  But I don’t love them enough to risk the jokers at facebook with giving them my personal info.

One trip down ID theft was more than enough for me.

For you who want out of this madness.  The ways to delete your facebook account are here.

I Won!!! I Won!!!!

I won the Halloween contest over at Goth Gardener.

It was for a Shovel related posting for Halloween.

I wrote a story titled 'The Shovel' over at Thrill or Shiver.

Vain bugger that I am, I took bragging rights for a prize.

I don't need anything else right now.  Well nothing that can be but in a box and sent through the post.

Health and friends can't be put in a box.  And who can't use more of both of them.

I'm going to sit on my winnings and smile the day away.

By the way I wasn't the only winner.  Lucretia's Reflection won for her pictures of Shovels in a Halloween way.  Fun stuff!

Looking forward to more fun again next year.

About This Facebook Game Thing?

So a nice neighbor let me try her Royal Story game on facebook.  She hadn’t played it in so long that even she was lost as to what was going on.  Apparently she had been playing Royal Story with her grandkids one summer when it first came out, but it became TOO time consuming and they all deserted it for fun in the sun.

I worked on the game for about an hour and liked some of what was going on.

The available land was so crammed full of apparently necessary stuff that it wasn’t easily workable.  And it didn’t look good either.

There was a machine I needed but I couldn’t place it for lack of available space.  So that quest was put on hold.

It was a lot of hurry up and wait stuff.  Hurry make this thing and wait 3 hours for it to arrive finished.

Also much of what needed to be done had ‘get it from friends’ attached.  And as there were no friends left to get anything from.  I was stumped there too.

The advertising was in your face.  This is obviously a ploy to make money off of the game addicted among us.  (We will frustrate you until you give us money to start the cycle all over again.  Rinse, lather, repeat.)  I’m not spending one dollar, one dime, one penny on a game that is trying so hard to get me to do so.

They also want you spending all your time on facebook playing.  Morning, Noon and Night!  (Hang with us and you will receive wonderful prizes in just 16 hours, 3 minutes and 47 seconds.)

But these are virtual prizes and meant only pull you further into the game.

I have a life.  I can and will only spend a few hours a day playing games on the computer.


Yet, still it intrigued me.  I do love this kind of collection/expansion game.  For a few hours I was really thinking about getting back on facebook again and playing some of those games.  But I’m not out to spending my days frustrated on games that are just using me to try to make money.

So I’m asking you.

Should I take the time to make a new profile just for gaming over on facebook?

(Say, something like; Spider S. Webb, Black Widow, Freak N. Stine, or Shadow E. Corners.   I got a million of them.)

Do you play Facebook collection type games and which ones do you suggest for me?

Am I asking for trouble if I do try facebook again?

I really do want your opinion here.

Daylight Savings Time

I have a love hate relationship with the concept.  And I still haven’t caught up with it a day later.

For those of you who do not know what it is, I’ll explain.
In the warmer months people wanted to have more daylight time after work to have fun and get things done on their off time.  Changing the schedules of every work place was far too complicated.  So if all the clocks were to be set ahead one hour, everyone would be on the same page and happy.  In the colder months of the year we can go back to the time set about by our rightful place on the imaginary grid covering the earth that rules these things along with the rest of the planets people.  (Longer version here.)

Sounds great!  More time for fun in the sun.  Right?

I am not a sun worshiper.  In fact I hide from it most of the time.  And making me move my natural rhythms messes me up quite a bit.  This also refers to my pets; a dog and cat who like, no demand, to have their meals on ‘pet’ standard time.

I have trouble with time as a whole.  It doesn’t comply with my wishes.  It speeds up and slows down at the most incontinent opportunities.  It puts undue pressure on me.

And on two days a year, one forward and one back, I have to change the time on no less than nine clocks in my house.  (Not counting computers and other devices that fix themselves.)

Yes, that does sound excessive for a seven and a half room house.   But time escapes me if not kept firmly in my face.

So I spent much time changing and dusting off, (I was there already so why not kill two birds with one stone.) the many time pieces in my house yesterday.

But still it gives me hope.  If a society can manipulate time… I may some day get the hang of it or mould it to my will.  Ha, ha!

Well the dog got me up at 3:00AM this morning.  He was protesting the time change on the food schedule with an excessively early nature call, I think.  I was too tired to care as I let him out of the door.

Maybe I hold up false hope.  Time ‘is’ and I must accept that I’ll never get the true hang of it.  Time will tell…

Clarification

Okay let me clarify something here about my last post.

My mother doesn’t tell me what to do or how to look.  (She does express what she likes in her quest for her version of a perfect world.)

I am technically a senior citizen myself.  I have defiance down to a science already.

Truth be told (and I know that you don’t really want to hear this) you reach a time in your life where its not all about yourself anymore.

Your parents are getting older and you know that they won’t be around forever.  You want to make them happy in their last days, weeks, months, years… what ever… of their lives.  (They have enough troubles in their lives already in bodies that are running down.  And don’t get me started about their friends getting sick and dieing off in droves.)

So toning down the Goth stuff when I visit them just to make them happy doesn’t feel like a big thing to do.  (And besides that I’ve ruined way too many of the family photos moments for them in my life already putting my happiness first.)

I’m a Mother and Grandmother myself.  I’d like to have the Addams Family version of a family portrait.  But I also wouldn’t dream of insisting that my parents, husband, kids and grandkids be dressed in a manner that wasn’t themselves.  I just don’t live in an Addams Family type of situation.  Few Goths do.

So: you win some, you loose some, and you let other win sometimes just to see them happy.

I have the rest of my life to do what I want in.  And when you think about it, most of my hours are devoted to my comfort and Gothiness.  The people around me benefit from my happiness in my Goth state.

And those that don’t appreciate it have lost out on what I can give them to enrich their lives.

So I hope that my parents appreciate what I do for them in love and kindness.  And that they also know in their hearts that a loving Goth daughter is what I have been.  And I will always be Goth on the inside, no matter what the outside looks like.  I just don't have to be in your face about it all of the time.

Sorry about that facebook friends

Okay I get the facebook thing.  A little.  But I am not there.

I mean I am there, I have a page, but I never go there to check out my page.

It’s not you, its me!  I am not gathering friends there.  All those many friend requests that show up in my email box end up in my spam folder because I set it so that anything from facebook ends up there.

I am not ignoring you.   I’m not there on facebook to friend you or anyone else.  I don’t even remember my password.  (And I can’t get the old one from facebook because I can’t remember what I put in for security question answers.  I tried.
)

I was on facebook for one day many years ago.  And it took me days to finally come out from under the bed.

And I still don’t get this “Friend me” stuff from strangers that didn’t like my Gothy self but just wanted to win the game of having more friends than their neighbor.  I felt like a dented ping pong ball, always going off to the side.  (Go somewhere else to play and leave me alone!)

And than there was the hate thing.

Personally there were family issues that played into it.  Enemy issues too.  And my mother hit the roof because some family members threatened to out me as her daughter on her page also.

My family doesn’t get the Goth thing.  They stopped waiting for me to out grow it and just let their disapproval show full strength all the time.  They also don’t know about acceptance and forgiveness.  But that is a different subject.

My mother loves me and has a ‘live and let live’ attitude about it most of the time.  But still doesn’t want any negative feed back coming her way.  Her church friends don’t approve.  (Mama says, ‘Isn’t that nice dear, but just leave it at home please.  You can show it to me when I come there.’)

(And yes I am an old lady who still has a mother.  An older old lady.  And Don’t even think about saying it its cute.  I‘ll bite you.)

And what is it with people thinking they can ask me personal questions?  And dissing me if I don’t give them an answer that they like.  (Like, I don’t know you and most of my friends don’t know this stuff about me.  And guess what?  It is none of your business what my sex life is like!)

I didn’t go on facebook to tell all my dirty little secrets either.  (So go away already!)

I did want to get into some of the games there.  Collection and land expansion without the war stuff.  But it was soon obvious that what facebook wanted was my money to keep it going.  And you just can’t get those types of games anywhere any longer.  The makers of these games make way too much money for their games on those social websites.  I still wish that they did sell single player versions for people like me also.

So save yourself some time and stop friending me on facebook.  I’m not at home there.

Someday I may go back and try again with a new page.  But for now my enemies live there and I’m too old to want to deal with that in your face trash anymore.  I have better things to do with my time.  And besides you can visit me any time you like here at my blog if you have something you want to say to me.  I’m here and I’m listening to my accepting friends.

Serious Discussion on the Scary Side of Goth.

I should have put this up before Halloween, but now is better than never.

I’d like to discuss scaring children with your Gothness.  We don’t want to scare them away.  (Well, not always.)

If I’m going to be at a place that will have kids when I’m all Gothed out, I like to be prepared.

Remember: Kindly smiles at them doesn’t always work.  Some see it as ‘I think you look delicious. Can I bite you?’

And filling your pockets with candy for them is not appreciated by the parents.  (And don’t forget the ‘Don’t take candy from strangers’ rule.  Few things are as strange as Goths.)

At times I do have trinkets/toys in my bag to hand out.  But I only give them after asking the parents first.  (Plastic Spider or Skull rings, Fun/spooky stickers, or things like that.)

But talking to them in a calm soothing voice about ‘not’ scary things seems to work best.  But be prepared, questions will soon follow.

Questions like “Why do you look like that?” can be handled in a lot of different ways.  And answering with, “Oh, did my [Insert body part here.] fall off again.  Help me look for it.“  might sound like fun in your head.  But…  Joking works better with adults.  Kids don’t always get the gag.  And confusing them only adds to their fright.

Questions and Answers (Your choices may need to be age appropriate.)

Q: Why do you like scary things?  (Besides the obvious, Why do you like the things you do?  Come back. Most kids hate that one.  They want to understand things.)
A: Some times its fun to be scared.  Having fun with something makes it a lot less scary.  Or.  I have decided to make friends with what scars me so it isn’t as scary anymore.  Or.  Fire Trucks can be scary, but they help people and you’ve learned not to be scared of them.

Q: Why do you like scaring people by how you look?
A: I don’t like to scare others if they don‘t like it.  I’m sorry if how I look scares you.  Or.  On the inside we all look the same.  The outside doesn’t count.  Or.  Even scary monsters are nice sometimes.  Or.  The Fire Trucks thing if you didn’t use it before.

Q: Why do you look so scary if people don’t like it?
A: I like it.  You like other things and dress the way you like.  And the way you dress might be a bit scary to somebody else.

Q: Doesn’t anything scare you?
A:  Yes, of course I get scared too.  We just get scared of different things.  (You can also admit to something that scares you here, but that can open up a whole new list of problems for you.  Pay back maybe?  Kids like to have the power to scare others, but should be old enough to use discretion or someone could get hurt.)

Of course there are also the questions about contact lenses, piercings and tatoos.

Be honest, but not too descriptive.  This child could be a future Goth in the making.

And remember never to suggest that they should get some.  They have plenty of time to make those decisions for themselves later when their parents won’t blame you for it.

Making it fun for them helps a long way toward having a population that accepts our differences and a lot less Goths will be beaten, mocked or ridiculed for their looks that way.

A Little Something Extra Today

I woke up this morning with this story forming in my head and I posted it over on Thrill or Shiver.

Just a Little Note  -  Death can come in all sized packages.

Let me know if you liked it.

Small Story

I posted another short story over on my Thrill or Shiver blog.

Florist Shop Raven, a story about a Goth girl working after school in a Florist Shop.

Have a Happy, Wonderful, Glorious, Spooky, and Safe Halloween tomorrow!

In the Mood to Howl

I’ve been watching all the old Addams Family TV Show on DVD.
Thrown in some Charlie Brown, Corpse Bride, and Hocus Pocus…
And I’m in the mood to send my Gothy self out into the world and howl.

I dream of a Gothy Fantasy life.

I want Morticia for a neighbor.  Wouldn’t that be great.  The fun we would have.  And all that Gothy knitting for sure.

And a Cemetery.  I miss living close to a cemetery.  I grew up with one across the street.

Rooms of Gothy fashion.  Way too much for just one closet.  And besides that, I need the closets for my Skeletons.

A Victorian Mansion on a hill, filled with all the Gothic décor my dark little heart could desire.

Secret passage ways.  Dungeons and a moat.  Caverns under ground.  Bats and tower rooms.

I want it all…

Yes, Howl I feel I must!

Get ready for making your own fun Friends and Fiends…

Halloween is but a few days away.

The Meme Conundrum

Oh No! Another “Meme” is going around.  “100 Things”

I have a love/hate relationship with Memes.

They fill the gap when you are running out of babble in your head that others might find interesting.
They help me get back into a blogging groove when other things try to pull my attention away.  And I like to find out about the things others have done or liked.

But I find myself thinking in a chant type of repetition, “This is not a test.  No failure grading will follow.”

Did I tell you my fear of tests and my public humiliation from my failure of them?  Very bad childhood memories of nuns with rulers.  (Now I’m not knocking nuns here.  This was a select few.)  I could tell you stories.  (I do know the right answer.  I just don’t do tests well.)  They never understood.  The memories burn me still.

Yes, I am an adult.  I do know the difference between a Meme for enjoyment and a test.  But the mind is a tricky thing.  It was more than a week of nail biting torture for me to put out the ones I have done lately.

I can stand on my own.  I don’t need anyone else’s approval for my choices.  And I know in my soul that there are no right or wrong answers to these silly things.

Still it may be a while before I do another (If ever).  I need time to recover.  (Back of hand to forehead.)

I’m a bit Meme shy right now.  (Hands held out in front of turned away face to ward off danger.)

I’ll have to think about this Meme business another day.  (Now where did my fainting couch go?  I need to swoon here from the drama.)

10 Things I Hate Having to Deal With

Washing dishes
Sleeping alone
Being sick in bed
Arguing with loved ones
Having to wait for something
Breaking a Ukulele string while playing
Being without my computer
Having someone walk away while you are still talking to them.
Having others make demands of me.
Doing memes

Hang the 10 things for 10 days, in the 10th month thing.
I quit them as of now.
I've told you I’m not good at playing with others or rules.
No more memes from me.

Hoot, hoot, hoot, hoo, HOOOOO!

I woke up this morning to a Hooty Owl making his or her presents known.  I so love that lonely sound.  Calling a lover?  Warning a mate?  I know not why.  Only that it thrills my soul.

Later when I was letting out the dog, I heard the Geese calling high in the air on their way southward, as the dog shuffled his way through the cracking leaves on the ground.

Sound is so wonderful in the crisp Autumn air.  Sharper, more distinct.  It also goes farther without the leaves on the trees and bushes muffling them.  Whispers sound nearer.  Creeping things can’t hide their presents as well as they once did.

Autumn will always be my favorite time of year.  And not for Halloween either.

For me it is the light… the sounds… the opening up of things.

I can see farther into the woods, or down the street, as the trees loose their leaves.  Darkness comes early and lights come on in peoples houses, giving me peeks into their homes before the curtains are drawn.  Daylight turns dapple then pure as the trees open up loosing their canopy of cover.  Nighttime comes early.

There is also a closing in the Autumn.  A moving indoors, nesting and snuggling in.  Filling the larder.  Pulling out the warmer comfort clothing and bedding.  Getting ready for the dead of winter to come.

Soups.  I can and do live on soups.  Comfort foods.  A cup of tea and a good book by the woodstove.

For the Contest

I wrote a short story over at my Thrill or Shiver story blog for the contest Gothic Gardener is having.

It is called 'The Shovel' because that was the contest theme.

Just click on Thrill or Shiver above for the Blog and all my stories are linked on the side or click the links below for the story itself.

Click the picture below for the contest rules.

I hope you like it.

The Shovel - part 1
The Shovel - part 2

10 Foods I Like To Eat

Homemade (and made with mostly home grown ingredients).

Black Bean Soup
Mock Egg Salad
Lentil Soup
Fruit Smoothie
Chowder
Lentil Burger
Pumpkin Soup
Black and White Bean Salad
Vegetable Soup
Tossed Salad

10 Aromas I Like

The smell of burning leaves in the autumn.
Apples baking
Lavender
Baking bread
Infant/Baby smell
Fresh, clean, sun dried laundry.
Crayons
Pumpkin Pie Spice
Spring things starting to grow
Rain

10 Things I Like To Do With Others

Intelligent discussion.
Play with my grandkids.
Dress up in my best Gothy Victorian dresses and go to cemeteries.
Cook and Bake
Dress up in costumes - re-enact the past
Play games
Dance
Shop for clothes
Walk in the woods
And last, but not least.
Volunteer

10 Things I Like To Do When I'm Alone

In no particular order.

Sudoku puzzles
Play my Ukulele
Play video games.  Mostly card, puzzle, or collection.
Write stories
Jigsaw puzzles
Sew
Make Miniatures - Doll house stuff.
Read
Handy Craft - Knit, Crochet, make Lace
Watch TV shows or movies on video

10 Cartoons I Like

Old
Betty Boop

http://youtu.be/sX8puuirg9E

Dover Boys of Old P.U.

http://youtu.be/jR0eBWDVAtw

Rocky and Bullwinkle Show

http://youtu.be/XujPnUNcB74?list=PLgOTIx3lNjISpsQSV6qVyxEz3F2mgXcSJ

To Spring - Classic Cartoon 1936

http://youtu.be/rT3URe3CxTs

New  (I’m a Grandma Too)
Charlie and Lola

http://youtu.be/0Vd-0pFOFs0

Postman Pat

http://youtu.be/7Xv65r8HHJM?list=PL9FA07FD5406C2AE6

Meg and Mog

http://youtu.be/YZPb5B0Xg8k

Movies
The Point

http://youtu.be/xjfKteUBa_s

The Phantom Tollbooth.

http://youtu.be/Llg5VODW6n4

The Grinch  (This is a Halloween Grinch)

http://youtu.be/ygSEkwRCQPM

10 of My Favorite Things in Music

Classical music - Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D Major.

http://youtu.be/GAkw_Wi4yIo

Classical Dark - Danse Macabre - Camille Saint-Saens

http://youtu.be/9CHqhsMP80E

Fun - Anything by the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain

http://youtu.be/pLgJ7pk0X-s?list=PLy-nEelStADPlE9Bl76hHieQzedJv9yOE

Popular/Personal Empowerment - Katy Perry’s - Wide Awake

http://youtu.be/k0BWlvnBmIE

Bluegrass - Nickel Creeks - The Lighthouse’s Tale

http://youtu.be/ARIr6S_0lAQ

Christian pop - Evanescence - Missing

Odd Entertaining Music Videos - OkGo

http://youtu.be/Y8cuuP4Jmio

Bette Midler - I think its Gonna’ Rain Today by Randy Newman

http://youtu.be/HToASBoxkdI

Invoke Memories - Moody Blues

http://youtu.be/cjImFYf2Vzc?list=RDcjImFYf2Vzc

To play on the Ukulele - Dust in the Wind - Kansas

10 of My Favorite Flowers.

Continuing this 10 things for 10 days in the 10th month thing.

In no particular order.  And there are ever so many more for ever so many different reasons.

Flowers
Violets - wild flower
Wisteria Vine
Calla Lily
Lavender
Roses - but never pink
Dragon Flower
Snap Dragon
Honey Suckle vine in winter.
Bleeding Heart
Venus Flytrap

10 things you didn’t know about me.

I. One of my grandfather’s jobs was being on a roller derby team.
2. I was once a backup singer in my mother’s country western band.
3. The 3rd finger on my right hand was almost completely cut off but was successfully reattached.
4. I was a tenor in glee club but pinch hit as a soprano.  Because I was the only one in the group that could reach high ‘C’ and beyond.
5. I have 5 dogs buried in our pet cemetery.
6. I am the oldest of a 6 kid family.
7. I’ve had surgery 7 times in my life.  None cosmetic.
8. I had 8 boyfriends between my first and second marriages.
9. I was in the Girl Scouts for 9 years.
10. Our pet cemetery has 10 pets in all buried there.

I did have a plan…

Mountain Man, (Otherwise known as my husband.) went away for a week and a half with some of his friends to a conference.  This was a good thing for me.

I had lots of plans for crafts, and autumn cleaning, tea parties, day trips to places he doesn’t like to go like costume and oddity shops and such things.  And blogging, blogging, blogging.

This of course did not happen.  Because I had a plan.

What you need to know is that if I make plans, the universe laughs and spits in my face.

1. So my beloved, best pal of mine, dog got all mental and suddenly was scared of me.  He wouldn’t listen and ran from my presents.  Trembled and collapsed when I spoke to him.  Wouldn’t even eat if I was in the room.  Very strange as I did nothing to or around him for this to happen.

I had to take much time reprogram him to trust me again.

2. My heart started to act up due to a stomach thing that messed my electrolytes.

No driving for a few days.

3. I opened my mail to find a letter from one of my health care services telling me that they were hacked and my info was stolen.

No end of time in finding out if this was in fact true and getting ID protection.

4. The radiator in the car died.

Still further no driving, or shopping, or getting out in the real world.


Mountain Man is home now happy and relaxed from his get away.

I have a cold in my head.  The dog is fat and happy from being over fed treats.  And I still need my vacation.

But I'm back to my regular real life.  I’m canning vegetables from the garden, getting to the autumn cleaning around Mountain Mans activities, exercising the dog, and blowing my red sore nose.  Cough! Wheeze!

Next time he goes away I’m not making any plans.  And who knows I just might enjoy the heck out of it.  Its happened before.

Happy Anniversary

Well we made it.  Woot!  Woot!  

I have been married to Mountain Man for 25 years.

This was not always a given.  My breast cancer and a few heart attacks could have gotten in the way and we are both getting older.

This was a second marriage for both of us.  It fits us.  We would not have been a fit for a first together.  We needed to live, learn, grow and change to make this fit.

And who else would put up with us but each other?  Ha, ha!

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.  But I do know that this was a landmark in my life hard won and much appreciated.

Here’s to Us!

Ignore the Sparkly and Make Some Progress

So, I have discovered that I am ADD. (Attention Deficit Disorder)

Not news to others in my life apparently, but news to me.

This does explain a lot.

My extreme need for new input.  Why I get bored to distraction so easily.  And why I can’t get my act together unless challenged by time constraints.  Just to name a few.

Knowing that my personal compass is broken made me feel a bit adrift.  Until I realized that its always been that way and I just wasn’t aware of it before.  And that I’ve made it this far the hard way.

Now that I have direction again the work begins.  I’m working on new ways to organize, cope, and manage my life.

I’ve also found that I did pretty good at managing this ADD already.

My card system for getting things done around here is one of the biggest.  (Sorry long time readers but here it goes again.)

I have a 3x5 card with every conceivable job that I do around here.  And I do mean every.  Light bulbs to closet corners.  Cobwebs to toilets.  Windows to refilling the condiments containers.

Some job descriptions are general, others much more specific.

All marked with day of the week and time.  (Not time as in 2:37 PM but how long before I need to do it again.)

They live in a large file box.  Full of tab cards to keep them in order with days of the week, weeks of the month, months of the seasons, seasons of the year.

The cards are color coded to help me even further.
White - Daily.  Yellow - Weekly/Biweekly.  Green - Monthly/Bimonthly.  Pink - Seasonally/Yearly.

Daily I pull out my cards for the day.  A rainbow of jobs to accomplish.  Once done the cards are recycled back into the file box year at their needed intervals.

This works great on a lot of levels.  It shows me that when big jobs are broken down they are easier to cope with.  I can go with the flow of the day and still get things done when an outing, phone call, or unexpected company interrupts my chores.  When I’m easily distracted I can come back to jobs and not forget and leave them half done forever.  On sick or busy days I can distribute jobs back into the next week easing the overload I once felt when I was knocked off my routine.

I’m still not a great house cleaner and never will be.  Mostly because its just not that important to me to live in a dust free environment.  (I still think cobwebs are cool.)  But I don’t lose things (Mostly time) nearly as often in the mess and I‘m less likely to trip on the latest half done project.

Do you have any more tips I could use?

Look a Contest...

So Goth Gardening is having a Halloween contest and I've desided to enter with a new story on my Thrill or Shiver story blog come Halloween day.  Rules and all that.

I hope the links work.  The picture should get you to her blog.  I haven't done this kind of thing for some time and a lot has changed here.  If not click here.

She has a great blog with lots of pictures and fun stuff going on.  Go check it out.  

I'll be posting more often now that summer is over.

Jury Duty, Control and Knitting

One of the things I like about being an elder Goth is the fact that I don’t feel that I have to act my age all the time.

True, there are the occasions that just scream out to all and sundry… Be a Grownup!  Act Adult!  Don’t Mess Around!

Of course this is a challenge to anyone like me.

I can be the sensible grown up.  Acting my age with grace and decorum.

But ‘Tell’ me that I must do so and bells and whistles go off in my head and trouble is sure to follow.

I get all silly and stupid.  I fidget and make noise.  I drop things and bump into things.

None of these things I do on purpose.  In fact I’m trying hard to control myself.  But this rebellious streak just comes charging to the surface.  And try as I might I just can’t pull this demon all the way back into the box.

And this was the case this week.  I was called to Jury Duty.  The Summon arrived in the mail weeks before and I arrived on time with my best grown up face on.  I sat and listened to the instructions, I quietly knit as I waited my turn to be called.  People around me started to chat with their neighbors about things of no importance.  (There was a lot of waiting to get through.)

When I was called to my group I sat with hands folded in my lap and didn’t fidget.  Even thou it was late in the day and many others had reached their limit.  I didn’t make the final cut so was asked to come back the next day for the other trials yet to be called for.

On the second day people were much friendlier, talk was louder and more jovial.  But there was also the feeling of ‘lets get this thing going so we can get back to our own lives again.’

Someone in a near group was trying to hush said group for an announcement that was trying to be given to the room.  And I heard it…

“Time to settle down and act like adults again.”

It hit me like a shot.  I started to giggle.  For no reason I could comprehend.  While I tried to stifle myself my knitting tumbled to the floor.  While I tried to collect my knitting I bumped the chair in front of me.  While I was quietly apologizing to the glaring face in front of me I started to hiccup.  And now I am the center of attention of the room as I’m asked to get my act together so the rest of the room can hear the message and commence with the day.

It went down hill from there.  I spilled my juice from my boxed lunch.  I accidentally flicked one of my knitting needles out of my knitting and into the next row.  (Not the thing to do by the way, when officers with guns are trained to watch for mayhem and stop it before harm can come to anyone under their care.)

My disruptiveness got other troublemakers into the mood.  Small disruptions erupted around the room after that.  I couldn’t wait to get this over with and go home.

Thankfully I didn’t get called to sit at a trial.  But being the start of all the unpleasantries of the day I had to stay after and be corrected.  For the next time I’m called on to serve.

At this point I’m just glad that I have three years before that can happen again.  And three years to practice being a grown up after hearing a reprimand.  Or at least discover why this happens to me so I can try to fix it.

But I don't think that they will be allowing knitting needle into the court house any longer.  A sad mark upon the world.

Meditate, Its Not Too Late.

Okay, so I’m seeing a therapist, and I’m getting some more coping skills in place, and the plants are still in orbit, and I’m into guided meditation now.

First let me say that being overwhelmed is not a good place to be.  It gets in the way of the things you want and need to do.

Second, stuff is still stuff and mostly it can wait stuffed away.  But you can’t stuff it away forever.

Third, life can be tough at times so put in a good supply of big girl (or boy, as the case may be.) panties and practice wearing them proudly.

Fourth, tomorrow will be another day.  And don’t sweat the small stuff.  Time heals.  Infinite Improbability Drive in place and working properly.  I will survive.


In therapy I’ve found out that I don’t like looking at my life too closely most of the time.  I just like getting down and living, enjoying, doing.  If I look too hard at my life it doesn’t look like what the TV, my parents, and teachers told me it would be like.  And this makes me a bit uncomfortable.

As a Goth this is a good/bad thing.  I like being different, but it doesn’t give me as many bridges into friendships.  Apparently Goths still scare vanilla people.  This includes happy Goths who play the Ukulele, and knit doll sweaters, and have broken family relationships not of their own making.

So I’m gonna’ put on my glittery bat wings today, meditate the heck out of most of the afternoon, and get this trolley back on track.  Stop spinning my wheels so to say.

Now if I only had a destination to point myself to.  And I still don’t know what was so wrong with the one I had.  It was working for me before.  (Note to self: Find Gothy guided meditations.)

Meditate, meditate, meditate.  I’m committed to this getting my life to a more controlled chaos again.  Maybe something will come to me then.  All will be made clear and brought into the light, as they say.

But for now, I think I’ll find a little shadowy corner to play in for a while.  Its more comfortable there anyway.

I Grieve

I’m now looking for a grief counselor.  I can’t sleep or function well.

I can’t explain the whole situation here as I will continue to honor my word and not to use any information that could identify members of my family by name or situation.  Let it be understood that I had been asked by my father and step-mom, to house my father after the death of my step-mom, and not for the first time over the years.  I lovingly accepted this task.

I knew that I didn’t get along super well with my sisters and brothers nor do they with each other.  But where once there was acceptance of our differences, Goth or otherwise, now there is none on their part towards me.

I find it almost funny that the Goth in the family is loving, forgiving, kind, and accepting of the difference in people and the ‘good Christian’ ‘we love the world and all people in it’ vanillas are not.

We just don’t think the same.  Not just for my Gothness either.  It wasn’t the black I wore or the paleness of my skin that got this all started.

In the end it was a simple misunderstanding blown out of proportion and into a war that brought this family relationship down.

I said something commonly meant to soothe the dieing.  This was misinterpreted and offense was taken.  As I was unaware at the time it occurred (This person chose to continue to act as if all was right and good.  That the plan was going ahead as first discussed when I was around, and no other family member told me of the rift or changes so that I could try to fix hurt feelings and restore understand again.) I continued to soldier on with the tasks allotted me making ready for my father to move in.  No attempt was made to clear this up or inform me of the changes that were being made for my father to move in with my sister.   No attempt to stop me from making expensive and difficult changes they all knew were in the works to my home to accommodate him.  No trial for my perceived slight.  No benefit of the doubt.  No chance to fix things with my step-mom or anyone else before she died.

Instead the family as a whole chose to think the worst and work against me.  My efforts at family unity in trying times were mocked behind my back and torn down in the end.  My integrity was questioned.  I was ostracized.  I was personally vilified, reviled, and sentenced to mental and emotional torture.

I was not the only one who was treated badly at this time.  But my being on the spot made me the major recipient.  The others got the lighter sentence of being cut off as dead.

The thing of it was that I am and never have been against the change of plans.  Instead I think they are right and good for the persons involved.  It was the asking me to be involved when I was clearly not wanted from the start, and then vilifying me as if I was the instigator and usurper.

Not one of my siblings or their children or grandchildren wants to have any sort of relationship with me at any level now for the hurt I supposedly planned and caused.  This in turn means I will never see my father again.  I must go through them to even speak with him in the future.  This will not be happening any time soon with feelings on their side running so high and I am too raw to allow another attack in the near future.  And as my father is old and in ill health, (for even I am a senior citizen), it is not likely to happen in his lifetime.

I grieve.  I grieve the loss of a loved one.  I grieve the lost understandings.  I grieve the loss of once loving caring relationships.  I grieve the loss of family, dysfunctional as they are, but still family.

I grieve.  But it is not a good loss or loving good-bye.  It is a much harder task to cope with.

I grieve.

Sometimes, You Just Don't Have a Clue

It’s all over and I’m back in town.

My step-mom died.  Hard on my Dad and others of the family.

I was older and moved away, I had kids of my own by the time they had met and married.

She didn’t mother me but she did try to guide me.  I had considered her a friend.

I was wrong.


The funeral was nice on the outside, the family dynamic of two families mixed but very separate made for tension on some levels.

Other family feuds and squabbles made for interesting play time among the mourners.


I like a good funeral.  And lets face it I do have all the trimmings.   This was anything but a good funeral.

To the casual observer it was a nice affair as these thing go.  But the knives were out and after blood behind the scenes.  They cut into each other with gusto.  No one was spared.

I avoided some drama by being a ‘vanilla normal’ but still got shafted in the end by contrived accusations.

Family can leave the nastiest scars on ones heart and soul.

What happened to these people I called family?  They grew bitter and abusive while I was loving them from afar.  I called and asked after them and their children.  I sent them pertinent news over the years.  I offered help when I could and gave it even when I couldn’t afford to.  I may not play well with others but I do try to be helpful whenever I can.


I walked into a room full of strangers who, I learned, didn’t want me there even thou they were the ones who asked me to come.  I was bated by smiling faces to a knife fight and all I had was flowers in my hands and love in my heart.

I went and I did my duty to the end as a daughter.  I left as an orphan.

I went a sister of five siblings and step-sister of two.  I returned as an only child.

I don’t even care to try to clear up the mountian of misunderstandings at this point.  Years of he said, she said behind my back has built up to an insurmountable degree.

I wasn’t there at the time and became the ‘odd man out’ scapegoat somewhere along the line.

My step-mom is burried along with most all of my family relationships far away in the place I grew up but is no longer home.


But now I am back at my own home and safe from their hatred.  Cat on my lap, dog at my feet, husband at my side, knitting in my hands, and bandages on my heart.

Another chapter of my life is over.  The scars will heal.  I will survive.

And not to worry they are not invited to my funeral so they will not be a bother to anyone else who plans to attend when the time comes.

On Time and Watching

I am glad that I came back to blogging the other day.  It was not to find a place to vent or ponder thou I do those things here too.  I came back because I wanted to visit friends and maybe find a few new ones.


Timing makes being here now a necessity.

A relative is dieing.  Health and age play a role.  But this is not always the case.

I ponder death often.  It sits in the corner of the room quiet…  Listening…  Waiting…

This doesn’t mean that I court Death.  But we are friends of a sort.  I am not depressed or suicidal.  Only aware.

I know Death because I’m old enough to have seen it many times.  I’ve been in the room as older relatives have breathed their last.  I have buried my own child.  I have held their cold lifeless hands after that last good-bye.

I have also looked death in the eye.  Three heart attacks behind me and a few close calls with allergy attacks has made Death all too real for me.


And now I am brought back to the place where we are on watch yet again.  The parade of relatives and friends march on by.  Some look around…  peeking in corners to see just how close death lurks.  Others are afraid.  They keep their distance so that Death can’t come too close… or brush their arm in passing.  As if Death may accidently take them too.

I know that there is no escape.  I am happy to wait.  I am not foolhardy.  I take no risks or chances.

I do not court Death… But I am aware that Death is never very far off.  Daily the news tells me of the latest celebrity death, or accidental death, or murder.  No, not far at all.

Life comes with an expiration date.  No one gets out alive.  Accepting this is not easy for some, but we all must admit that it is true.

It is the sadness and loss that hurts the most.  We tell Death ‘Go away!’ ‘Don’t change my plans for a future once imagined with this person.’  ‘I want to write a future and make plans without your interference.’   But Death is deaf to our pleas.

So we hurt and are sad, we feel the loss and pick up the pieces.  We cry, hold hands, listen to each other.  We wait…  to feel better…  for it to be over…

We wait… for Death to move from its corner and claim another life sometime soon.   We are feeling helpless and all too vulnerable as we wait.

Facebook isn't Real Life

Now that I’m creeping my spidery self back along the web again.  Pun intended!

I’ve found some interesting ‘new to me’ blogs.  I hope to find others in the limited time I have each day to play in the flower garden of blogdom.

Its great to know that Facebook hasn’t killed blogging altogether.

I personally do not like Facebook.  I find it a money making, intrusive, gossipy, …   Well, Don’t get me started!

I only spent one day there and had to go hid under my bed for a week.

Its this ‘friends’ business.  A thinly cloaked method of stroking ones ego to control ones mind or loosen ones tongue.

I do not need Facebook to measure my self worth.  I do not have to say the right thing, play the right games, or do whatever the current thing of the day is, to accumulate more and more ‘friends‘.

People have been led to believe that saying personal things is quite okay to do.  Lives have been wrecked.

I have personally lost relationships over this.  Relatives that after running out of secrets of their own to spill move on to secrets of others to feed their need to find something new to say or gossip about on Facebook.

All with a ‘This is a good  thing.’ air because, ‘It can’t be bad if I have so very many ‘friends’ now that I’m interesting.’   To hell with the consequences of ones actions.  That is someone else’s mess to clean up.


(Don’t get me wrong, I know that many people are truly there for perfectly reasonable reasons.  They don’t tell or engage in malicious gossip.)


And then there are the Games there.  With the people who bother the heck out of others to play a game.

This isn’t a one off game of the moment.  It is a commitment to play day in and day out boosting each others scores.  Enabling each other to gain greater power and levels.

I use to love playing these types of games, minus the Friends aspect.  You can’t find one of these types of games on the market any longer unless you go to Facebook to play.  And Facebook constantly harasses as you play to buy, buy, buy more points.  Real money for nothing really.  A chance to get ahead in a game.

To me Facebook feels like place full of addicted people praying on others.

I’d rather spend my time on real friends and self improvement in mind, body and spirit.

Ukulele Torture, Of Sorts

So, Like I said a few days ago I’ve purchased a Ukulele.  Just a cheep starter Kohala.  Not known for their quality.  Cosmetic flaws and such.  I had to reduce the action on it also.  (For those that don’t know and care.  That means making the strings closer to the neck so you don’t have to push so hard to make the chords.)

But I do have to say that the one I got has good sound and excellent resonance.  Meaning it doesn’t sound all that bad.  Fairly good really for a cheep Ukulele.

So I dressed her up.  (Still deciding on a name for her.)  I got out my markers and did a little scroll work on the front.  Added a few stickers numbering the frets, (those little bars across the neck) and under the strings reminding me of the keys the strings are tuned to.  G C E A  My dog has fleas.  (What ever that is suppose to mean.)  Now I had a good learning instrument.

And off I went.  Contorting my hands into the odd assortment of positions meant to make music from a stringed instrument.

The first few days were nothing less than torture.  In a good way of course.  But still, I do have to replace the cotton wool used up in the ears of all those in hearing distance.

And two months later I’m playing my favorites along with the obligatory Uke standards in a reasonable manor and having way too much fun doing it.

Now the torture is only one way.  As my song preference is not popular with the neighbors, they will just have to keep on closing their windows for an hour a day until colder weather hits.  

What started this Ukulele Mania is a bit complicated.  First off my grandmother had and played a Ukulele.  (Not strange for her generation.)  and I loved hearing her play it as a kid.

Second is my eclectic tastes in music.  Few things I don’t like there.  Thou they do run to the dark and odd side of things.

Third is my sense of humor.  Enter the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain.  I’ve enjoyed them for years.

http://youtu.be/dKpzCCuHDVY?list=PLy-nEelStADPlE9Bl76hHieQzedJv9yOE

I’ll just let you go and watch them while I get back to playing the Masochism Tango on my Uke.
Link to Tom Lehrer doing it here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TytGOeiW0aE

Life: I Love It!

I guess it was my post title that made people think I was not doing well.

I am doing great!  Health is good.  Attitude fantastic!

In most all aspects of my life I'm having a gothy great time!

Nothing is perfect of course.  It wouldn't be life if it was.  But I'm not complaining.  Its just a fact.  You know that as soon as you turn around a flec of dust will fall, the dishes won't wash themselves and something will need to be put away, straightened, or fixed.

Life: the moving river of stuff one deals with at any given moment.  I love it.

There are challenges, quiet peace, laughter, pain, contentment, frustration and enlightenment all open to our experience.

And than there is creativity!

Crafting, writing, sewing, knitting, crochet, cooking, singing, playing an instrument, dancing, designing, decorating...

You get the idea.  Everything from adding your own special touches to making something completely new.  It just adds a richness and texture to living.

Its just a part of what I look forward to each day.

So here I sit.  Rose colored glasses firmly in place.  And although much is black in my vision.  That is just the color of things, not my attitude.

On Not Dead Yet

Its been a long time.  I don’t know if anyone is still out there that cares, but here goes.

I'm not sure if I'm back to a daily, or even a weekly blogging experiance, but I have decided that I do need to update here on occasion.

My sign language skills are coming along.  I can converse with a toddler.

We won.  The Compressor Station was stopped.  We breath free semi-clean country air.

After my third heart attack: I have lost some extra weight.  (Need to continue to loose more.)  But I am living much healthier lifestyle over all.

My crafts have turned mostly to toys for the grandkids.

I’m into reading mysteries of late.

I bought myself a Ukulele two months ago and I have given myself a strict hour a day of practicing schedule.  I love it and have gotten fairly good at it already.  The list of songs I can play to grows daily.

My camera broke so pictures will be limited here.  I can still take pictures with it, but the focus is messed up.  So most of the pictures I take wind up unusable.  (Picture above is of Mary Picford not one of mine.)

All in all, life is a good thing.  I try to:  Forgive and forget.  Learn something new.  Live, love and laugh... each day.

I do hope all my blogging friends, readers and bloggers, are doing well also.