What a difference a year makes...
a year ago today, I was driving to the hospital to visit Rich after his motorcycle wreck the night before...today, I went for my first ride on our 'new to us' wing. We've had the bike for two weeks now, but I wanted Rich to get the feel of riding again before I climbed onto the back seat. I figured today that he'd had enough time, and I wanted to go for one ride at least, before it gets too cold to ride. I put on an extra layer or two of warm clothing, pulled on my riding jacket, pants, boots, and helmet, and we took off.
We didn't go anywhere special, just out and around. We stopped at a nephew's house for a quick visit and saw another nephew, a niece, and a great-nephew and great-niece while we were there, so it was a bonus visit. = ) We rode through some familiar country...this is a beautiful area, with plenty of trees and water and other natural glories to be seen. It was a nice day, with plenty of sunshine to help warm us. It was a good day.
It was good to be out on two wheels again.
And last night, there were grandkids! :) I spent a couple of hours with Layla, Robby, and Andrea while their dad and Rich ran an errand. We watched Jumanji and played, and Layla did my hair for me. What a fun evening!
"sometimes you find a plug that perfectly fits a hole you have, and it makes everything OK..."
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Monday, November 01, 2010
Sweet... :)
This little baby set is for the forthcoming grandchild of friends. Baby things knit up SO quickly, and the "awwwwwe" factor is always high. These are in Schaefer Ann, in a colorway I've forgotten, with some Lorna's Laces in China Blue for the sock feet. The Ann was left from my very first pair of finished socks in 2003. I'd given the yarn to my sister, but my brother-in-law gave her knitting stuff to me after she died, and this yarn was so pretty I had to use it for this wee hat and socks. This pic is way too dark, but I can't find my good camera right now. I found the basic sock pattern here and the basic hat pattern here. I made some adjustments to the patterns, working a different toe on the socks and adding a cuff and a different stitch pattern to the cap. Very, very cute and soft!
Saturday, October 30, 2010
I love these socks...Patons Kroy Sock from the FX line, in Clover Colors. The picture does not do justice to the glorious colors in the top sock. I mention the top sock in particular because the two balls of yarn were from different dyelots and the colors are quite different, much more vibrant in the sock on the top. I am unconcerned with having fraternal twins rather than identical ones, but the thing that bothers me about this pair of socks is that the two balls of yarn knitted up at different gauges so the socks are two different sizes!
Because it's Kroy, the balls of yarn ran a bit short. I have two more balls of this yarn, so I just added a bit to finish the toes. I'll pick up another ball and then will have enough to finish a second pair in the same color...I love it THAT much!
The colors are much more like the ones in the sunrise picture below, taken in my yard one early morning last spring.

I've also finished a pair of wee baby socks and a tiny baby hat for the forthcoming new grandbaby of some friends. I forgot to take pics of those, though, and can't find my camera at the moment.
We are back on two wheels once again! We found a killer deal on a 2002 Stream Silver Goldwing. It's been a long, long year, and it will be good to be riding once again. Here's hoping that we'll have a little bit of decent weather before winter forces us to put it away.
Happy Halloween, y'all!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Rock it, baby!
In a recent conversation with a friend, I was reminded how much I used to like Electric Light Orchestra (ELO). I dug out my Greatest Hits CD yesterday morning and it has DRIVEN me to work and home again the last two days.
Here are a few videos to remind you, if you've forgotten, too, or to introduce you to some really great music, if you've never heard them: http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Electric+Light+Orchestra&aq=o
Stellar rock band, symphony orchestra, astounding harmonies, amazing arrangements...intelligent Rock 'n Roll!
Coming soon...finished socks!
In a recent conversation with a friend, I was reminded how much I used to like Electric Light Orchestra (ELO). I dug out my Greatest Hits CD yesterday morning and it has DRIVEN me to work and home again the last two days.
Here are a few videos to remind you, if you've forgotten, too, or to introduce you to some really great music, if you've never heard them: http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Electric+Light+Orchestra&aq=o
Stellar rock band, symphony orchestra, astounding harmonies, amazing arrangements...intelligent Rock 'n Roll!
Coming soon...finished socks!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Autumn...
And so it comes to pass that another fall is upon us. I have begun to lose track of the years, and it takes some thought to calculate how many have come and gone, but one thing appears certain, they do seem to keep right on doing just that.
Fall has begun to show its colors of late, and the early signs promise a heartbreakingly beautiful display for the Fall in this year 2010.

I took these pictures yesterday during a short stroll about the marsh. I was feeling cranky, tired, depressed and ill. A good friend told me to go outside and so I did. I weeded and raked my newest flower bed, got my hands nice and dirty, slipped off my sandals and wiggled my bare toes in the soft, warm soil, then headed out into the marsh.
It was a good day for a stroll, as autumn days often are. There was much to see and appreciate in the beauty of the marsh and stream, and it wouldn't do to stride, to rush, to hurry.
Fall seems such a peaceful time, and yet it is a riot of color, of flavors, of sights and sounds. The entire world appears to be taking stock, storing up, making ready for the long, cold, gray days ahead. Crops are being harvested, golden-orange pumpkins are stacked at every produce stand, and mums are in bloom. Bushel baskets of apples appear, red and yellow and green, and cider is freshly pressed.
Animals are preparing to hibernate, birds flock southward. This great flurry of busy-ness will soon be followed by a period of rest.
Today I was out driving, and the colors have grown even brighter and more breathtaking overnight. In one place, I drove through a shower of brightly-colored leaves that had just fallen. There were so many places I just wanted to stop, get out of the car, and walk into the trees to immerse myself in the autumn glow, but I will, perhaps, save that treat for another day. For today, it was enough to be out and see it.
Friday, October 08, 2010
Dave'sSocks
Yesterday was a wonderful day...it was sunny and breezy and I actually got a kite to fly, for the first time since I've lived in this house! It flew high and strong, and I was able to run out an entire spool of line. I dried clothes and sheets outdoors on my new clothesline, and they made the whole room smell fresh and new when I brought them inside. I had a conversation with a dear friend who is about to realize a life-long dream that will bring much good to many lives (more to come as I learn how it will work), and that made me feel good, too.
Yesterday was a wonderful day...it was sunny and breezy and I actually got a kite to fly, for the first time since I've lived in this house! It flew high and strong, and I was able to run out an entire spool of line. I dried clothes and sheets outdoors on my new clothesline, and they made the whole room smell fresh and new when I brought them inside. I had a conversation with a dear friend who is about to realize a life-long dream that will bring much good to many lives (more to come as I learn how it will work), and that made me feel good, too.
Suzi asked to see a picture of Dave wearing his new socks. Here you go, Suzanne! As you can see, they are not quite as green as the previous picture showed them, and that's a good thing....
He says he likes them and they seem to fit well, so I am happy. : )
It has been a beautiful fall day here. I painted the last of the bedrooms, Green Tea is the color. One step closer to a finished house!
I am feeling blue today, nonetheless, in part due to having to miss the Harrison, Arkansas gathering that so many of my friends are attending, and in part due to the continuing strife between my son and his wife. Keep them in your hearts, thoughts, prayers...they need it desperately, as will all those of us who are watching them struggle.
Earlier in the week, I was notified that there were serious errors in the colorwork chart for my Texas sock in the Fifty Socks for Fifty States pattern book. I went over the chart again, and hope that I have fixed all the goofs. My apologies to all who have been trying to knit the pattern!
Sunday, October 03, 2010
Bits and Pieces...
a few pictures from the past few months, some small wonders and natural beauties...
A rainbow that showed up one evening last week
My brother-in-law's finished socks...started by my sister while she was still able to knit, and finished by me in late September. The yarn is from Lion Brand...Sock-Ease in Lemon Drop color. The pattern is my own, a basic K6, P3 rib, with Eye of Partridge heel flap, extra-long legs to rise above Dave's boot tops. The yarn is some that I bought when I was working at Hobby Lobby and gave to Cherryl. Dave doesn't mind the color. :)
Friday, September 17, 2010
Summer's Harvest
Our little garden has done better than I thought it would this summer. I have picked two small batches of purple-hull peas and plenty of cherry tomatoes. There are two tiny watermelons and one pumpkin, with a few small starts of pumpkins still developing. They are unlikely to have enough time to grow, though.
I was very surprised, then, when I saw that the corn stalks had actually produced a few ears. Robby helped me pick them...
Grandpa helped him husk them. I sent Robby out to the tomato plant, where he picked a cupful of cherry tomatoes while I microwaved an ear of corn, and just moments later...
Our little garden has done better than I thought it would this summer. I have picked two small batches of purple-hull peas and plenty of cherry tomatoes. There are two tiny watermelons and one pumpkin, with a few small starts of pumpkins still developing. They are unlikely to have enough time to grow, though.
I was very surprised, then, when I saw that the corn stalks had actually produced a few ears. Robby helped me pick them...
Grandpa helped him husk them. I sent Robby out to the tomato plant, where he picked a cupful of cherry tomatoes while I microwaved an ear of corn, and just moments later...
YUM!
In other news, Robby's dad and step-mom had their marriage ceremony last Saturday, and there was some dancing...

A drywall mudder came and finished the mudding and taping in the master bedroom and half of the living/dining area. The bedroom is painted, a nice, soft, warm yellow called "Butter Cookie" from Behr, and it is lovely!
The memorial service for my sister was last Sunday, and it was a beautiful day. Many people, both friends and family, showed up. We ate, talked, hugged, laughed, shed a tear or two, and I hope we did well by her memory.
The weather has been decidedly autumnal lately, with temperatures ranging from the mid-50s to the high-70s. We had some rain and wind yesterday, but otherwise it's been just perfect. The leaves have begun to turn and the goldenrod is in full bloom. Corn and soybeans are being harvested. I do enjoy this colorful season!
I have been doing some knitting. My sister had begun a pair of socks for her husband, but was not able to knit for the last few months of her life and so was unable to finish them. She had made some sort of mistake and I had to frog them completely and restart them, but I will finish them for her wonderful Dave. I've completed the gusset decreases and need to add another inch or so to the foot before beginning the toe shaping. I have two other pair on the needles, and when they're finished I need to knit a pair for a friend to replace the pair that he wore out. After that....hmmm.... :) I'm sure I'll have another project to begin then!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Today was my day off, and I had plans to mow the lawn. The lawnmower, however, had other plans and refused to start. Those who know me well know that I have a love/hate relationship with machines that are used to cut grass. They will not be surprised by the reluctance of the mower to allow my use of it.
Since I could not mow, I decided to fly a kite. I love flying kites, and have quite a collection of them. I had a brand-new one that had never been out of the package and I saw when I hung the sheets on the line to dry this afternoon (yes, I did do something productive today!) that there was a nice breeze. While living on the prairie for all those years I never had to worry much about finding a good kite-flying breeze, but here in the woods and marsh it's a different story. The trees break up the wind and cause turbulence and it's not so easy to find a good, strong, steady breeze to lift my little sail and make it fly.
- A sail (the kite)
- A tether (the line and the person holding it)
- A breeze
If any one of those things is missing, the kite will cease flying and fall to the ground. When attempting to fly the kite, the flyer needs to be aware of the wind lifting the hair on the back of her neck, and she must be able to judge the direction of the wind to know in which direction to face her sail. She needs to give her kite just enough line to let it rise, and she needs to know when to pull it in and let it out, and when to give it up and wait for another flying day.

I lost a good part of my breeze early this past Sunday morning, when my sister finally lost her fight against cancer. She had always been there for me since my birth, indeed we were eggs born together at the creation of our mother. She lifted me up when I was faltering, held me aloft while I searched for my own breeze, and showed me how to fly steady and true, and to stay away from trees and power lines. She taught me when it was time to reel in my line and call it a day. She never judged me, always loved me, and never, ever stopped believing in me.
My wind is faltering these days, much as the wind faltered beneath the sail of my kite. I know steady breezes will come once again and I will fly in honor and remembrance of a wonderful woman...a perfect sister...but I will always miss her.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Most mornings and most evenings I pass a tiny one-room Amish schoolhouse on my route to and from work. In the summer, the school is empty and the grass is allowed to grow longer than during the school year. Sometimes a few Amish children play on the swings and see-saws in the yard, but most of the time the building just sits shuttered and empty, in anticipation of the beginning of the next school year.
Recently I have seen some things happening at the little school as I passed. Men are working there, making small repairs and cutting the grass as the children play in the schoolyard. Paint is touched up, the hitching rack tightened, the fences repaired. This week the children returned to school and there are bicycles in the yard, horses tied to the hitching rack, and buggies sit with their shafts empty, waiting for the school day to end.In my yard, the walnut trees have already begun shedding their leaves. Along the roadway,the sumacs are turning red and gold. The days are shorter and the sun reaches the yard at a slightly different angle.
Another summer is drawing to a close and the seasons march on, one after the other, as they have since the beginning and will until the end, forever and ever, Amen. It only seems to go faster these days than it did when we were children, I know, but the illusion of time passing more and more quickly is there, nonetheless, perhaps as recognizance of my own mortality becomes more clear. My parents warned me this would happen.
As this summer season of 2010 closes, another sort of season is also coming to an end. My sister's battle with cancer is nearing its conclusion, and she will not be the winner, as we have known she would not from the time of her diagnosis. She has become mainly nonresponsive, refuses food and medications, and must be coaxed to take even tiny sips of water. Her body has given up control of its most basic functions. There is little dignity in her existence these days and my heart aches that she must endure the depredations of her end care.
Her husband is a miracle. He is a man of great sweetness and kindness and tenderness. He gives her perfect care, with the best-possible humor and love. It is inspiring and heartbreaking to watch him as he performs the most dreadful of services for her comfort. There are no words for my admiration.
My sister's season draws to a close, and the 'circle of life' rolls on. I must soon adjust to a world without her in it for the first time since my birth in 1956. I am so fortunate to have close friends who stand with me as I face this new and unhappy season in my own life, as I learn to celebrate the life she lived with such joy, rather than to mourn the loss of that life. One friend recently told me, "Be strong." and I replied, "Rick, I don't have to be strong all by myself...I have many, many strong friends like you helping me." My best friends are not geographically close, being spread across the USA and indeed around the world, but they are emotionally close and mentally close, and I can feel their support every minute of my day. I am so blessed.
In happier thoughts, we recently had a reunion of my husband's mother's family, the Mulletts, and it was, as always a joyous occasion. Family members came from Texas and Kansas and Kentucky and Indiana and Michigan and from who knows where else and we had the most splendid time! The Texas cousins spent the weekend at our house, camping in our yard, and some nieces, nephews and our offspring camped here for the weekend, as well. Bonfires every evening, and laughter every day...what a wonderful family I married into.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Rainy Morning
The colors of the world on an overcast day are so much deeper and stronger than when the sunshine is bright. It's a rainy morning here, the sky is cloudy, and the greens and reds and yellows are breathtaking. I know that in a while the sun will shine and the hues and shades will be washed out and pale.
I hope that my colors also shine truest when the sky is dark.
I planted a tiny garden this summer, the first that I've had in years. It was late before I got it planted, and it's unlikely that I'll get much of a crop from it, but it's been fun watching it grow. The corn tasseled before it made any ears, so there will be no crop there. I still have some hope for the watermelon, pumpkin, and purple-hull pea plants.
What are purple-hull peas, you ask? According to all of my Southern friends, "That's some GOOD eatin', right there!" I've heard that from folks all over the south, and when Mr. William and Ms. Nina sent me some seed last summer, I decided I had to plant them. My friend John, from Louisiana, says we'll never get a crop, as our growing season isn't long enough, but we'll see. I might not get enough to cook up a good mess of them, but I think I'll have a few to taste.
The colors of the world on an overcast day are so much deeper and stronger than when the sunshine is bright. It's a rainy morning here, the sky is cloudy, and the greens and reds and yellows are breathtaking. I know that in a while the sun will shine and the hues and shades will be washed out and pale.
I hope that my colors also shine truest when the sky is dark.
We were supposed to be at the seventh annual Dan Barr Memorial Golf Outing in Hubbard, Ohio, this weekend, but another summer cold for me has kept us home. I hope the weather will be perfect for the outing and that it is another successful day. Thousands of dollars in scholarship money have been raised over the past years to send the children of firefighters, emergency medical personnel, and the like to college. This is the first year we've missed it, and I am so disappointed. It is truly like 'going home' to visit our friends in Hubbard. I hope that we'll be able to make the trip for a visit this fall.


May your colors be bright today.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Looking Through the Curve
I love motorcycles. I didn't always, but I fell in love with them a few years back, when I was forty-four years old. I have taken two rider's courses, have a MC endorsement on my driver's license, have owned two bikes of my own, and have logged many thousands of miles in the back seat of the late lamented BigYellowBike. Nearly all of my best friends ride, and I plan all my vacation time around motorcycle gatherings.
One of the most-stressed points taught in a motorcycle safety class is how to take a curve. You don't want to brake once you've entered the curve...you slow down, look through the curve, then roll the throttle and accelerate into the straightaway. You don't focus on where you are right now, you look toward where you want to go. If you allow yourself to become fixated on where you are instead of where you're going, you will crash. "Look where you want to go!"
It's important, whether riding curving roads or straight, that you ride within your ability and not 'over your head'. Riding curving, twisting roads is a tremendous thrill, and when it's done correctly there grows a harmony between motorcycle and rider that is hard to equal. Most riders love riding the twisties, and will compare stories of their rides at great length.
But even the most-experienced rider needs the occasional straightaway, to rest the arms and mind and catch one's breath. Twisties are good, and the very best thing about riding, but everyone needs a straight road every once in awhile. It has felt very much like the last few years have been nothing but one curve after another, and I am ready for a straight stretch.
I was explaining to my bosses the other day about my sister's condition. They were concerned with how I'm handling it. They are riders, too, and I thought of this motorcycle analogy. I told them, "Right now, I feel as if I am riding at the very limit of my ability and there are curves ahead. I'm trying my best to look through the curves and not fixate on where I am. If I can keep from focusing on what's happening right now, I may be able to keep from crashing."
I guess there could be many ways to look at that analogy...but the point I want to make, and you can take from it whatever makes you happy, is that I have to keep on keeping on, counting on the belief that there is something good around the curve...maybe even a nice straight stretch. :- )
I love motorcycles. I didn't always, but I fell in love with them a few years back, when I was forty-four years old. I have taken two rider's courses, have a MC endorsement on my driver's license, have owned two bikes of my own, and have logged many thousands of miles in the back seat of the late lamented BigYellowBike. Nearly all of my best friends ride, and I plan all my vacation time around motorcycle gatherings.
One of the most-stressed points taught in a motorcycle safety class is how to take a curve. You don't want to brake once you've entered the curve...you slow down, look through the curve, then roll the throttle and accelerate into the straightaway. You don't focus on where you are right now, you look toward where you want to go. If you allow yourself to become fixated on where you are instead of where you're going, you will crash. "Look where you want to go!"
It's important, whether riding curving roads or straight, that you ride within your ability and not 'over your head'. Riding curving, twisting roads is a tremendous thrill, and when it's done correctly there grows a harmony between motorcycle and rider that is hard to equal. Most riders love riding the twisties, and will compare stories of their rides at great length.
But even the most-experienced rider needs the occasional straightaway, to rest the arms and mind and catch one's breath. Twisties are good, and the very best thing about riding, but everyone needs a straight road every once in awhile. It has felt very much like the last few years have been nothing but one curve after another, and I am ready for a straight stretch.
I was explaining to my bosses the other day about my sister's condition. They were concerned with how I'm handling it. They are riders, too, and I thought of this motorcycle analogy. I told them, "Right now, I feel as if I am riding at the very limit of my ability and there are curves ahead. I'm trying my best to look through the curves and not fixate on where I am. If I can keep from focusing on what's happening right now, I may be able to keep from crashing."
I guess there could be many ways to look at that analogy...but the point I want to make, and you can take from it whatever makes you happy, is that I have to keep on keeping on, counting on the belief that there is something good around the curve...maybe even a nice straight stretch. :- )
Summer Thunderstorm...
Last Friday evening, there was a thunderstorm here. It had been quite dry for a little while, and very hot as well, so rain was needed. The storm came just at the beginning of dusk and the evening sky was still light when the thunder first began to roll.
I've said before that I love the rain, and will stand out in it, as long as there's no lightning. It became obvious right away, though, that this was not going to be a stand-out-in-it rain. I was, however, feeling a bit confined and blue, and I didn't feel like waiting out the storm in the house. I went out onto the front porch, sat on the bench there, and lost myself in the rain and the light and the sound.
It was a magnificent show. The treetops swayed wildly against the darkening sky, and I marveled that these great solid objects could bend enough to withstand such winds. The thunder was loud enough on several occasions to be felt in my chest, and wild enough to crackle like fireworks. Lightning blazed in the sky. My hair curled crazily with the wind and the humidity, but the porch roof kept me dry except my bare feet and legs. It was magnificent.
I wonder how many people go out to sit and watch a storm? I don't remember ever being frightened of them growing up, but the thirty years I spent most recently living on the open prairie made me somewhat nervous of them. With nothing to stop the wind, it becomes a force with which to be reckoned. Now that I live in a more sheltered place, I'm rediscovering my love of these great works of Nature.
With all that's going on in my life right now, I think it was a good thing for me to sit out and watch a thunderstorm. It helped me remember that I am just a very small part of this universe we inhabit, and that the problems that take up so much of my thoughts are proportionately small, as well. It helped me try to slow down...take it easy...just be.
It's a good lesson for me in these trying days. I do love a good storm.
Last Friday evening, there was a thunderstorm here. It had been quite dry for a little while, and very hot as well, so rain was needed. The storm came just at the beginning of dusk and the evening sky was still light when the thunder first began to roll.
I've said before that I love the rain, and will stand out in it, as long as there's no lightning. It became obvious right away, though, that this was not going to be a stand-out-in-it rain. I was, however, feeling a bit confined and blue, and I didn't feel like waiting out the storm in the house. I went out onto the front porch, sat on the bench there, and lost myself in the rain and the light and the sound.
It was a magnificent show. The treetops swayed wildly against the darkening sky, and I marveled that these great solid objects could bend enough to withstand such winds. The thunder was loud enough on several occasions to be felt in my chest, and wild enough to crackle like fireworks. Lightning blazed in the sky. My hair curled crazily with the wind and the humidity, but the porch roof kept me dry except my bare feet and legs. It was magnificent.
I wonder how many people go out to sit and watch a storm? I don't remember ever being frightened of them growing up, but the thirty years I spent most recently living on the open prairie made me somewhat nervous of them. With nothing to stop the wind, it becomes a force with which to be reckoned. Now that I live in a more sheltered place, I'm rediscovering my love of these great works of Nature.
With all that's going on in my life right now, I think it was a good thing for me to sit out and watch a thunderstorm. It helped me remember that I am just a very small part of this universe we inhabit, and that the problems that take up so much of my thoughts are proportionately small, as well. It helped me try to slow down...take it easy...just be.
It's a good lesson for me in these trying days. I do love a good storm.
Monday, July 19, 2010
In Pursuit of Clarity...
A few days ago, I made a blog entry titled This Was My Sister. You can read it by clicking the title. The intended point of my words was that the wonderful, vibrant, funny, beautiful, loving, smart, giving, talented, and absolutely marvelous person I grew up knowing as my sister is being stolen from us by a cancerous tumor in the speech and language portion of her brain. I wanted to post pictures of her as she was, as I remember her, as I have always known her, so that all would remember that very, very special person whom I love so dearly, and remember her at her best rather than as she is now, to celebrate a life lived to its fullest.
It is tragic that cancer can do this terrible thing. It is heartbreaking and dreadful. I know that my sister is still alive and that she is still my sister. I intended to make the point that even though she still lives, I am mourning the person she was...the person who has been a constant and vitally important part of my life for nearly fifty-four years, the woman who is being taken from us, bit by bit.
I have spent a great deal of time with my sister these past two years as she has fought this horrid monster with all her being. I have seen her slip away, a little at a time. It is tearing me apart.
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It is apparent, however, that I did not find the right words to make that point. Someone read the blog entry on my Facebook page, misunderstood what I was trying to say, and felt the need to point out on my page that she IS, not WAS my sister, as if I had not considered that fact. I apologize for any mistakenly-perceived callousness on my behalf. I assure you all that no harm was intended. I don't know any better way to say it. If I offended, I hope I can be forgiven. I am just a sister, mourning the impending loss of a sister, and I don't know how I will go on without her in my life.
A few days ago, I made a blog entry titled This Was My Sister. You can read it by clicking the title. The intended point of my words was that the wonderful, vibrant, funny, beautiful, loving, smart, giving, talented, and absolutely marvelous person I grew up knowing as my sister is being stolen from us by a cancerous tumor in the speech and language portion of her brain. I wanted to post pictures of her as she was, as I remember her, as I have always known her, so that all would remember that very, very special person whom I love so dearly, and remember her at her best rather than as she is now, to celebrate a life lived to its fullest.
It is tragic that cancer can do this terrible thing. It is heartbreaking and dreadful. I know that my sister is still alive and that she is still my sister. I intended to make the point that even though she still lives, I am mourning the person she was...the person who has been a constant and vitally important part of my life for nearly fifty-four years, the woman who is being taken from us, bit by bit.
I have spent a great deal of time with my sister these past two years as she has fought this horrid monster with all her being. I have seen her slip away, a little at a time. It is tearing me apart.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is apparent, however, that I did not find the right words to make that point. Someone read the blog entry on my Facebook page, misunderstood what I was trying to say, and felt the need to point out on my page that she IS, not WAS my sister, as if I had not considered that fact. I apologize for any mistakenly-perceived callousness on my behalf. I assure you all that no harm was intended. I don't know any better way to say it. If I offended, I hope I can be forgiven. I am just a sister, mourning the impending loss of a sister, and I don't know how I will go on without her in my life.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
I Write Like...
This is a new phenomenon on the Internet, where one can paste a sample of one's writing and it is analyzed to compare it with famous authors.

Poor Ms. Mitchell...I guess I've read Gone With the Wind too many times over the years! :D
But then, I also write like Margaret Atwood...maybe this all just means that I should have been named 'Margaret'?
Wait...I also write like Kurt Vonnegut. I guess I need to find a writing style of my own.
Who??? Off to Amazon to do a little writer-research...
This is a new phenomenon on the Internet, where one can paste a sample of one's writing and it is analyzed to compare it with famous authors.

I write like
Margaret Mitchell
Margaret Mitchell
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Poor Ms. Mitchell...I guess I've read Gone With the Wind too many times over the years! :D
But then, I also write like Margaret Atwood...maybe this all just means that I should have been named 'Margaret'?
Wait...I also write like Kurt Vonnegut. I guess I need to find a writing style of my own.
Who??? Off to Amazon to do a little writer-research...
Thursday, July 08, 2010
This Was My Sister...
I have never been in this world without a sister. Mine is ten years older than I, and I can say with some surety that we have never had a cross word with one another. Two years ago last March, she was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the same sort that Edward Kennedy had. She has been fighting it ever since. Her husband of just one year at the time of her diagnosis has been a constant and tender caregiver. Lately, the cancer has been stealing away small pieces of her, making it more and more difficult to communicate. Yesterday, she fell while her husband was at work, and may have hit her head. At any rate, she was admitted to the hospital, and today we met with Hospice. There are no words strong enough, so I will let these images speak for me. Click on the images to view them in a larger size.
I have never been in this world without a sister. Mine is ten years older than I, and I can say with some surety that we have never had a cross word with one another. Two years ago last March, she was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the same sort that Edward Kennedy had. She has been fighting it ever since. Her husband of just one year at the time of her diagnosis has been a constant and tender caregiver. Lately, the cancer has been stealing away small pieces of her, making it more and more difficult to communicate. Yesterday, she fell while her husband was at work, and may have hit her head. At any rate, she was admitted to the hospital, and today we met with Hospice. There are no words strong enough, so I will let these images speak for me. Click on the images to view them in a larger size.
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