On "stuff" and substance

I have a dear friend whom I've never met.

He lives in London (and he is probably reading this right now - you know who you are! ). He has an amazing, selfless website and I met him through there. I used to help him out on the site, but with my health issues right now, I am trying to focus on my own well-being and getting things done around here that have long needed doing. We have known each other nearly 4 years, and while we have never met, we talk usually 4 times a week via email, sometimes 4 or 5 times daily. Most of it is silly nonsense, or sharing links to interesting lectures or songs. But just enough to know we are thinking of the other.

Just this past weekend, I heard his voice for the first time. He sent me a recording of himself singing "Blowing in the Wind" while playing guitar. LOVED it! You have NOT heard Dylan until you have heard it with a British accent!

So, while my dear friend is very dear to me, as are his beautiful boys and gorgeous partner, there is still a 'thing' between us.

You see, my husband and I may be visiting friends and family in London in the fall. Well, friends other than my dear one. He is concerned, and was open and loving with me about this, that he is not on the same "level" Husband and I are.

We own a farm - he lives in a flat in the city. In the urban, gritty guts of London.

I teach college & Tim is a surgeon - he is an artist, art instructor, and (in American terms) a handyman. Definetely a different economic strata, but what of it?

We are married - he is in a domestic partnership (with two adorable guys to show for it!)

But, what he perhaps does not realize, is this is all "stuff ". Stuff isn't what matters, it's substance.

Content of character has always meant more to me than content of wallet. And his carefree, Bohemian lifestyle he often describes to me makes me jealous (YES! I am jealous of you!). He has installations in schools, he has students lining up for his classes. He is living the life he loves instead of the one he pre-planned.

And I admire him for it.

But, because of his own 'fear' (for lack of a better word) of not measuring up (for lack of a better term), he feels he couldn't meet me face-to-face for coffee when I am in London.

Huh.

He lives the life he chooses. Maybe I am not worthy of him.

A feather in the hand is worth a bird in the air

This is BW. We call him B-dub for short. He is the uncle of all of our feral cats from Cincinnati - many of whom were left behind when we moved. Not out of neglect, but out of inability to capture them.

We managed to trap, neuter, and relocate six of them. B-dub and Patrick are the only ones who still live on our farm. Finnegan, Patches, Fiona (daughter of Finn & Patches) and another feral male were brought here but did not accept their new home. They escaped from the barn during the 'acclimatizing' phase and broke my heart. At least Finn & Fiona were together. And they are spayed & neutered and will not add to the population crisis.

One of the ones left behind in Cincinnati was Pyewacket*. She is a gorgeous little girl and tame enough that I could hold her. Her daughters, Luca and Lilliana, each aged a year apart, were quite ill as babies. We have kept both of them as inside pets, and Luca & Pye were spayed the same day.

The vet and I jokingly called it "Mommy/Daughter Spay Day" - as opposed to "Spa", of course.

Out of the kindness of her heart, a neighbor down in Cinci who was assisting the Ohio Alleycat Resource organization with the trapping, let Pye go. She's not a cat person, but she is a kind soul. Pyewacket was in a trap, waiting for the OAR to come get her, and the neighbor was concerned as it was hot and Pye was in the sun without water.

So, my beautiful Pyewacket is lost to me forever. As is my sweetheart, Finnegan.

But, these are the risks you take in life. You love, you lose. You love, you win. You never know where the roulette wheel will stop.

The seemingly little choices we make often influence the rest of our lives, while big ones, so we think, don't quite have the magnitude we worried about.

While I love Finn & Pye with as much love as an animal lover can, I hope they are well. But, there comes a point where I have to realize that no matter how much those two meant to me, they are not with me. Both of them left me. Both of them ran, out of fear of the unknown.

I am left with B-dub. He's a very good cat. He brings so much joy and asks for so little in return. And, he gives me gifts. He once brought me a shrew! (Shortly after moving here, I came out of the back door and a small, dead furry object was lying there. Patrick & D-dub were running down the sidewalk. I think it was a thank-you gift for their new home!)

I admit, at times he makes me mad - he is the reason we no longer have a bird feeder - but he is, after all, a cat.

Finn & Pye will always be in my heart. I will always look at Luca, their daughter, and Lilli, Pye's girl, and remember.

All I have is two photographs of them and memories; they are like birds in the air - lost to me forever.

But B-dub is here, feather in 'hand' . . . or is that 'mouth'? (He is feral, after all. And very vicious, as you can tell.) He always greets me, never fails to make me smile.

I will learn to be content with what I am given.

* The name Pyewacket is taken from the Jimmy Stewart movie, Bell, Book, & Candle but also refers to an imp "familiar" of an accused witch in 1644.

On tears and rain

I was perusing favorite quotes today and came across a great one:

"The tears of the world are a constant quality. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh." ~ Samuel Beckett

That's interesting to ponder - is there ever a moment in time when no one in the world is crying? Or are tears, as Beckett said, a constant? There never would be a way to check, so I just consign my own tears to the sigh of humanity. Yes, briefly, I broke a resolution.

Again, tagging my last post, I am coming to realize that we really are part of something outside of ourselves. And no one's pain is localized.

It's raining here again, still, making melancholia seem the norm. Even the dogs are grumpy and tired. It would be easy to lay in bed this morning, crying.

Instead, too many things to do. I think of another favorite line, from the movie Blade Runner. The head renegade replicant, Batty, is dying. He relates a list of memories to the human hunting him, then quips:

" . . . All these moments will be lost, like tears in rain . . ."

It's such a powerful scene. And a powerful thought.

I will lose my tears in the rain today. Moving on needs constant reminding.

Here comes the flood.

On broken resolutions, broken promises, and broken hearts

I broke a resolution, in the wee small hours of the morning.

I cried, just a little, over a long-standing dream which came crashing down a few weeks ago. An incident which has forever changed my perspective on life and love. But, one of my resolutions for my "new year" was not to cry anymore. At least it was only a little.

Sometimes, where you end up is not where you thought you would be. And, hearts mend, wounds heal, but it takes a long time to let go of what you understood to be your future. Especially when you find it will always be a mistake of your past for which you'll never be forgiven.

So, picked myself up, brushed myself off, and started all over again. And I forgave myself, if only for the tears.

High hopes. Even if I have to move that rubber tree piece by piece instead of all at once, I will still overcome.

There's a morning after.

It's not a sign, it's shared humanity

I used to believe in signs. Especially those expressed in music.

I would be feeling a certain way, or thinking about a certain person or event, and, suddenly (Miraculously! How did the gods know?) a song with poignant lyrics would come on. I would take it as a sign. My life was going to change, the one I loved would come for me, I would win the lottery. Fool.

I don't believe in signs anymore. I just realized that every time I hear a song, no matter how fitting the words may be to my situation, it's just proof I am not alone in this web of humanity. I am not the only one to have felt this way, or to do this, or to have this done unto me. It's happened since the beginning of time.

I am not unique in my pain. I am just unique in how I choose to suffer.

"Fools in love -
are there any creatures more pathetic?
Fools in love -
never knowing when they've lost the game." ~ Joe Jackson

And suffering is a choice. So, I just won't think about it anymore.

It's day 3 of my new year. Time to get my shit together. At last.

It's my New Year's Eve

I am sitting here, 3 hours 'til midnight, a bit worried, a bit excited.

I am hoping this is a whole new beginning for me.

But that's not something that I'm looking forward to . . . well, maybe

So, as my "New Year's" looms closer, I am taking a good, long look at what is going on in my life at present.

This week alone I have broken the three center toes on my right foot and had my (oversized) gloved hand attacked by one of the semi-feral barn cats, leaving me with some nasty puncture wounds and a whole lotta swellin' goin' on.

I am calling Friday my new New Year. It will be one year to the day since I woke up with the left side of my body shrivelled and withered with dystonia, caused by an allergic reaction to lisinopril. It left me with constant vertigo and balance issues, thanks to vestibular neuronitis and nystagmus of the left eye. And, it also left me with more than a trifling of fear.

It was on Thursday, April 8, 2010 that I found out I had celiac. Potentially harmful but controllable if I do not ingest gluten. The control is just all-encompassing and pretty brutal. It was due to this celiac discovery that I changed medications. The one I was on was on the X-list AND not gluten free. The new medication, lisinopril, was GF approved. I just had no idea what two doses of it would do to my body and my following year. And, one week later on April 15, I found out.

So, for a while there, I was afraid of Thursdays. But, I fought hard for my year and my health. My sanity, too, come to think of it. And a change of doctors truly helped. I know - I thought being married to a surgeon, I would no longer have to go to a doctor. Turns out, surgeons have to cut you up to figure out what's up. Usually. He is very handy with sprains, preventing infection, and general medical trivia. But, I have always said I enjoy being married to a doctor (although I was more excited he was rock star!) because I am so accident-prone, I need a private physician. He, however, jokingly reminds me of how it ended for the wheelchaired evildoer in "Hannibal".

For this reason, I refuse to have pigs on our farm!

But, all of this rhetoric is yet another example of how I am living in the 'wrong moment' currently. All of, or most of, my recent accidents have been preventable with an ounce of prevention. I am going to face my New Year with new found hope and an even more attentive ear to my inner voice.

It's there . . . "life" has just been drowning it out lately.

So, c'mon, April 15th! I await you with a hint of trepidation, but a heap of excitement, too!

Spring has sprung!

So, it appears that spring has come to the farm. One of those days last week when I had my (now rare, used to be regular) migraine. Naturally, it would happen while I wasn't looking.

At the lake the other day, I found crocuses. I think they are the first of the year, or at least the first I have seen this year. I plan to pay much more attention this Spring!

I am making up for lots of time lost last year. My home, my health, my pets, my life - everything suffered due to circumstances out of my control. Three more days until MY New Year! It was April 15th of last year I lost use of the left side of my body. And it has been a challenge, battling to get it back.

The actual walking 'thing' took about 5 months to perfect.

My balance, however, and vision are still obscured. STILL! I am fairly sure that one never gets over vestibular neuronitis, instead the body just grows accustomed to the condition. The nystagmus I have in my left eye, on the other hand, can linger. Luckily, mine is not visible to the naked eye, nor is it debilitating. And, honestly, it seems to be getting much better. I can concentrate on things and focus now - more so than I could even a few months ago. It's just annoying.

But, all of these losses, and the loss of a year of my life, has left me with a new-found joy in the little things. I realize that time really is fleeting (sadly), and there is so much to do in life, but so few opportunities. And spending time with those that you love is one of the most important aspects of being alive.

So, here's to a New Year - a year full of hope and promise. I will keep my eyes open, my ears to the wind, and my heart at the ready. One never knows what a new year could bring!

Now here's something you'll REALLY like

It was a windy day yesterday. Followed by a windy night. It was tough to sleep - too warm for heat; too windy for windows. Opted for windows nonetheless, but the wind made sleep challenging.

That, and my mind twisting itself into a total state of panic. Some nights are just like that, disconcerting.

There are times when I think that perhaps I will sleep soundly, drifting off quickly and staying that way. Those nights typically end poorly. Like last night. The Universe laughs.

I was achy and sore. Gearing up for this two week fast now made me eat a few seemingly 'healthy' foods - which I should not have eaten. Interestingly, all of the aches, pains, and miscellania that I have thought were "old age" creeping in actually turn out to be food allergies. Having systemic reactions to allergens is much different than having an intolerance or anaphylactic reaction. And, all of my pains and odd ailments, it turns out, are just that ~ allergies.

Those muscle aches in my shoulders? Dairy or corn (two different types)
That itch that won't go away on my middle left toe? Corn - again
The joint aches in my toes and fingers? Eggs and perhaps sugar
Too many almonds or too much shrimp? Vomit (And I used to wonder why I couldn't eat even one FRIED shrimp ~ it's obvious now that I know I have celiac on top of food allergies. Ugh.)

And so forth. Yes, the list is quite long. I often tell people what I CAN eat as the list is much shorter!

It's hard, though, giving up things I really enjoy (like good whole-grain toast!). There are many of them. Being a good cook, so I've humbly been told, makes it even worse. And, oddly, human nature dictates that the craving continues. It is, after all, difficult to cut out 90% of the food in the world. And get enough protein.

I admit there are times I have resorted to animal sources. Being an ovo-lacto vegetarian for 31 years, it's tough to find out now that I am severely allergic to both eggs & (cow) dairy. And, wheat, as well as having the gluten intolerance! (Wheat gluten is the key protein in many "veggie burgers" and meat alternatives. Sigh) It makes that little bit of turkey - one of the few proteins I can eat - seem necessary. Nearly.

Okay, I DID say, after last year, this was the year to get healthy. Having my amazing doctor find out all of these allergies (as well as hypothyroidism!) is key to the issue. But, now, quality of life in terms of ease of just being able to eat where and what I would LIKE instead of what I HAVE to?

Who doesn't love a good challenge??

Imagine there's no heaven

"If God lived on earth, people would break His windows." ~ Yiddish Proverb

I would like to break His windows today. That is, if dogma is accurate and there is a Heaven and, conversely, a Heavenly Father.

The reasons I would throw stones today has more to do with my health than anything else. I woke with a headache, which has since turned to the beginning stages of a migraine. I didn't feel well yesterday - a bit off. Today, I had to cancel a trip with a friend, all because I don't know if a migraine is starting or not. And my left eyelid is drooping.

Seriously - it's been nearly a year since I had the allergic reaction and lost use of my left side. The use of it is back, but I still have this inner ear and left eye issue. Vestibular neuronitis in my left ear, nystagmus in my eye. Can't a sista get a break here?

By the way, the above photo, while lovely, is what a typical day looks like for me. Most people don't think I have anything wrong. I can walk pretty straight. But, it's kind of like being drunk: I stumble and my path veers a lot. I am fighting hard, here, and I refuse to let it get the best of me. And, the good news is, I CAN recite the alphabet backwards, Officer.

"Man does what he can, the Universe does what it will." ~ Proverb

So, in other words, I can quit my bitching now. Things will turn out as they will and unfold as planned. I just have to get over it.

In better news, it's badminton and bocci ball season soon!

Here comes that rainy day feeling again

It's raining again.

The sky has grayed over completely, it's sprinkling as we speak. The mounds of mud in the pasture have increased 10 fold. The horses sink knee deep in spots. The flood has subsided somewhat in the creek.

My vertigo continues. I am still having difficulty moving my arms above my head and looking up simultaneously. I am sure the mild nystagmus contributes somewhat. It's been nearly a year now, and the relief I have been promised has yet to show itself. So, I have come to a very hard decision: I think we are going to have to find a home for the horses. Only the most kind & loving one will do.

I know we saved Suzi's life - I KNOW we did.

She looks amazing. To see the skeletal version of her that came to us in July makes my heart swell with pride, because I see where she was and how far she has come.

I have made a difference in someone's life.

I think about that, and I think about the few lives I know I have touched. Obviously, many, many furry & finned lives. Also turtles, if you count our two here and the numbers I have moved out of roads.

I also think, though, that there are at least a few people whom I have helped over the years. I think about my ESL teaching - working with international, corporate bigwigs & dignitaries and their families. I think about my at-risk tutoring and the lives I touched there. I think about the small, private colleges where I taught: hating every moment but making a difference nonetheless. Even at University of Cincinnati. The few students I keep in contact with from there do still remind me I was their favorite. Or one of their favorites.

But, I think about losses, too. And I think about how I feel today - gray, lonely, empty - still seeking fulfillment. Still pining over things long gone.

"It's raining again
Oh no, my love's at an end.
Oh no, it's raining again
Too bad I'm losing a friend."

Seriously? ANOTHER Supertramp song? I don't even like them!

It's that rainy day feeling again. Time to get in the shower and wash it away.

On withdrawal

Withdraw:

1. to draw back, away, or aside


2. to retract or recall


3. to remove oneself from an activity, competition, etc.


4. to cause a person to go through withdrawal from an addictive substance

There are times in life when we realize what we really want is never going to come to fruition. We learn to deal with it. We may have to go through withdrawal first, but we survive. Love can be as addictive as street drugs and as lethal, too.

Coming to peace with decisions, especially ones long past which are best forgotten, is one of the hardest things to do. As humans, we have a tendency to grip tightly and beat ourselves up over things over which we have no control.

We know our own heart, but we cannot know that of another.

The Buddhists have a great concept: just let it go - all of it. Holding on to thoughts, people, wishes, wants - having expectations of life, love, the future. All of it is futile as the universe is going to turn as it will, with or without you. The major dilemma that seems so insurmountable today will be a passing fancy tomorrow.

Hearts break everyday. But, the sun still comes up. Life goes on.

The sun is shining today - for the first time in what seems like a long time. Maybe it's just because my eyes are dry. Either way, I have other, better things to do.

"I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings.
Coming down is the hardest thing." ~ Tom Petty

Fools & Flight

A fool and his money are soon parted. Fools' gold. Fools in love. Only a fool tests the water with both feet.

So many quotes and sayings about a fool and foolishness. But, perhaps the one I am most concerned about is this:

Fools rush in.

So, how long is appropriate until you are not considered a fool? Or, conversely, if you wait too long, are you foolish for having waited?

Time waits for no one, so another saying goes.

My feeling? Sometimes you just have to take the leap of faith, trust the universe and each other, and do what your heart dictates. You always have it within you to know what you truly want. You just have to rely on your heart to make the right decision.

Go to the edge and fly.

Or, as media maven Al Bernstein once said -

Sometimes the fool who rushes in gets the job done.

(I post this above picture for my dear friend, Gayle. I, too, love the history and not just the subject!)