A New Slideshow For My Artwork

I Think I Can...

Me, a long time ago - before Crohns.

I hurt. A lot.
I look at this old picture of me in high school and wonder how in the world did I get from that to where I am today?

I went to work last week so miserable that I could barely stand myself, and I am sure that the guys were not amused with my demeanor. Then there was Thursday. I was in so much pain and felt so weak that I just could not get out of the bed.  And when I did, it was to stay in the bathroom every time I turned around.  I was about 2 hours late getting in to work because I literally could not get enough energy to stand up long enough to take a shower. I kept pushing myself and pushing myself until I made it into the shower and the warm water felt so good, I just stood there for several minutes.  I finally finished the shower and got dressed and made it out the door to work. It was so hard, but I pushed myself like I do nearly everyday when I have a flare.  This time seemed so much worse than the others because of the joint pain and the fatigue.

Yesterday I was feeling pretty good. I had come home from work after really having a rough day at work on Friday.  I didn't eat much for dinner and fell asleep fairly soon after I ate and got up around 7 AM that morning. It was the first burst of energy I had in a long while. But it was also the first night I had spent that I actually slept without waking from the horrible itching spells and leg or abdominal cramps - or the normal going to the bathroom every hour or so. When I have a flare, my fibromyalgia goes crazy. Every muscle, every joint is on fire and aching.  I feel guilty even talking about it, because there are so many other people who have it so much worse than I do. I am blessed with the good days that I do have when I am in remission and feel 'normal'.

Tonight though, I don't feel 'normal'. Tonight I am in pain. My stomach is distended, and makes all these weird noises.(I pray that I don't hear the high pitched noise that means a possible obstruction again.) I feel like it is a giant balloon and it will explode any second.The bathroom is my constant companion, and I am so sick of it. I wont go into all the details that go along with the sometimes 30 or more trips a day when I am having a bad flare, but it is not good - at all.  The bad part about all of this is that you would think I would be rail thin. I mean, really, it all goes straight through me. How in the heck do I have any problems with weight? Really? Really?  Definitely a cruel joke with that one.I shouldn't be so vain anyway.  I am still alive - thanks to my husband's heroics when my bowels perforated and caused peritonitis while I was in the hospital for what they called 'stomach flu' when I was finally diagnosed. I know what it is to be on death's door more than once.

I get so frustrated sometimes.  And yet, I feel guilty if I gripe about it. I should be able to just suck it up and go on, shouldn't I?  I feel like I should. Except tonight, when I should be cuddled up with my hubby in bed -  I am sitting here curled up in this chair, writing down my feelings for the world to see. Hurting. Sometimes it really makes sense to gripe. Maybe I can make it  though- I think I can anyway. Besides, God's not through with me yet.

God Bless the USA!

It is the day before Memorial Day.  A long weekend for most.  My husband made a remark this morning about how he imagined a lot of people just thought of it as a day off or the start of summer, and forgot that this was to honor and remember all the soldiers that had given their lives so that we have the extra day off. He is probably right.

My dad was a veteran.  He didn't see combat, but was in the Army and National Guard for several years. He almost had enough time to get retirement, and regretted that he didn't go ahead and finish his time out. I don't  remember a lot about his time in the military because I was very young when he was active. The most vivid memories I have are when I was about 3, and he had been mobilized and sent to Fort Lee, VA. We moved up there on the base for a while. I honestly don't know how long it was, but I remember I was miserable, and I missed my grandfather. I cried so much, that I literally made myself sick. My mom said they took me to the doctor and he told them (in not so many words) I was a spoiled brat and I would get over it.  I don't remember going to the doctor, or where we lived at the time.  I do remember packing up my red and white stick horse when we started on the road, and clutching the small 2x3 picture frame that held a photo of my grandfather.  I am not sure, but I think my grandfather might have given me the stick horse as a going away present, or to keep my occupied while they left. I'm not sure which it was, but I loved that thing so much and played with it until it fell apart.

I have memories of a battlefield and the pile of cannon balls and the cannons beside them. The thing that really piqued my interest was 'that little train that ran down in that ditch'. I am not sure if that was in the same park or another one, but it definitely made an impression on a 3 year old. I also remember the kitchen at the mess hall. It was all shiny and the counter tops were really cold when daddy sat me up on one. He was a Master Sergeant and head cook there at the time. And there were bananas on a "tree"! And they used them to make a really good banana split.  The ice cream was weird too. It came in these little blocks. But that was okay because daddy and his co-workers in the kitchen would feed me banana splits - as much as I wanted- while I watched them go about their duties.  I imagine that my mom was none too happy about it either, but I can't remember whether she was there or not.  Years later, when mom and dad took us to the local Dairy Queen in town, they ordered us a banana split and I realized I really didn't care for them. Obviously, I got a little burned out on them back then.

I know one thing, this girl was so happy when we made it back home!  I could follow my granddaddy around and sit and listen to all his tall tales, and help him feed the animals, and ride to the field to pick watermelons. Nothing better than pulling a watermelon fresh off the vine, then breaking it open on a rock. The sweet heart of the melon would fall out and we would devour it like it was our last meal. Oh, it was so good!  I can remember going home with a sticky face and hands so many times.

My dad never had to go overseas and I am thankful. After that, I think he served another few years in the National Guard, then settled in working at a local grocery store.He never regretted his service to our country. And I was so proud of him.

All I can say today is, that I appreciate all those that fought and died so that I was able to have such wonderful memories. I appreciate those that came home, and those that were support and may not have seen combat. We owe a debt of gratitude to the people that choose to serve this country. If not for them, there might be very few of us that had wonderful childhood memories. God bless the soldiers, and God bless the USA!

It's Tuesday...

Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday…

It feels like Monday all over again. I don’t feel as though I have gotten much accomplished in the last day or so. I woke up this morning thinking about all the things I wanted to do and everything I wanted to accomplish. Then, I also thought of all the things I hadn’t accomplished that I should have accomplished these last couple of years.  Time is passing so quickly.  It seems like just a month ago it was the start of a new year and now, half of it is gone!

Today, I got up with a new perspective on things and I hope I have the courage to follow through. It is so easy just to sit back and let things just move at their own pace. So easy not to rock the boat and let the time and opportunities pass you by. But this time I hope to summon the courage to change.  To take the path less traveled and shake off the dust that was on the dreams I used to have. Some may have chosen to just give up and reconcile that what they are now is all that they will ever be. Not me. I want to strive to be better. Not in material ways, but in spiritual and all other ways. I can be the person that I was meant to be. It just takes changing my mind.

The Mouths of Babes

This weekend was both good and bad in so many ways.  First, I am in the midst of a flare with Crohn's Disease. I am not a happy camper to say the least. But it comes and goes, and I try to focus more on the times I am not flaring than the times I am. Makes me a happier and less angry person when I focus on the positive.

The good part of my weekend happened Saturday when my daughter brought her boyfriend's 3 year old son, as well as his nieces, ages 10, 3 and 10 months to the house for a visit.  I had forgotten how much fun babies were, and learned how wonderful it is to play with one and then send it home! Hubby got as much of a kick out of the kids as I did.  He jokingly said I was playing 'Grandma' for the day - as in practicing for the day that I might be so lucky as to have some grandchildren to play with and spoil...then send them home. Ah, yes - I like that part! All the fun and none of the sleepless nights. Heaven on earth - yes, that would be it!

Mind you, I am not pushing for either of my children to marry and have grandchildren for me and their father to spoil. It will happen when it happens. Part of me is thinking, 'My word, woman! What are you thinking? You are definitely too young to be a grandmother.' Then, the other part thinks, 'Hmmm...aren't those booties and that little dress or outfit, the cutest things, oh don't babies still smell so good! Why do they smell so good?'  If this keeps up I may end up with multiple personalities!  I am laughing right now because I know this has to be the transition that a woman of a certain age goes through when their children are grown and out on their own. I don't know if it is because we don't have the kids to dote on anymore, or maybe we long for the opportunity to mother more children. Nah, nix that last one - at my age, there is no way I could start over with a baby. I am already exhausted without kids under foot.  Although they do smell so wonderful and when they lay their little heads on your shoulder and their little fingers play with your hair... Oh lawd. Stop it! Stop it, I say!

In any event, even though I felt rotten to the core ( and I mean to the core), those little munchkins just brightened my day.  And when the baby fell asleep in my arms, it was better than any pain killer they ever put on the market.

New Web Postings

I haven't been on here in a long while - too much going on.  But, I just wanted to note that I have uploaded and continue to upload photos to a new artist's website, Fine Art America.  I haven't gotten any sales yet, but I am hoping that I will soon.

To see some of my nature artwork and those of others, you can click on this link: nature photos

Hope you have a blessed day!