I made my 40 minute commute home in the pouring rain up until the last half mile.
I pulled in the driveway, and just before getting out of my truck I was caught in the web of magic around me. The air was so thick that leaves were moving from the wet rather than the breeze, the sun far enough down that the whole world was oozing into a soft green glow. Even the sky was a shade of pale seafoam green. The carpet of woodruff in my front yard sparkled. If you don't know woodruff, it is a thick, dense ground cover about 4 inches tall. Right now it is a dusting of powdered sugar white blossoms on poofy clouds of green fluff leaves. There is a deep secret scent the Earth offers up ONLY after days and days of rain.
I took as long as I could to walk from my truck to the front door. There is no special effect in George Lucas' arsenal that can produce the magic in my front yard after eleven days of rain as the sun is winding down in the middle of May. You will never hear me complain of the rain.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming....
Wow. It's almost like I've forgotten what this blog--and every waking moment--is all about! Yes!
Rich is doing well. According to the doctors he has seen so far this month, he's doing very well. I'm waiting for McGee and Peiffer to weigh in next week. Until then, I'll bring you up to speed....
The final tubing was pulled May 9th. I no longer have to flush the picc line daily and do a weekly sterile dressing change. More importantly, Rich no longer has to wait until I'm around to wrap his arm so he can take a shower. He can shower whenever he wants!!!! For the first time since July 5th, 2010. Please take an extra moment to contemplate that
He's gained a bit of weight. He no longer looks like a Civil War prisoner. Now he looks more like a scarecrow that could use a bit more stuffing. The man is a stud muffin just waitin' to happen.
Some days he feels better than other days. The pain is less frequent and less intense. At least that's what he tells me, but I wake up 2-3 times at night to the sound of the TUMS bottle rattling.
Some days he can enjoy quite a bit of activity. Some days he has to lay down between every little effort. So far he has me convinced that his exhaustion does not correlate to chores. I'm simple that way.
The only thing hampering his golf game is the weather.
His color is good, his outlook is better and his attitude puts me to shame.
Currently there are no medical plans on the horizon. After everything he's been through, we're right back to where we were before the treatment that almost killed him. Part of me fears (and is relieved) that there is nothing more they have to offer; Rich believes them when they say he just needs more time to heal and they want him to enjoy his summer. We're a pair, yes we are.
We're enjoying the four babies in our lives (and two more on the way!!) If it ever stops raining we'll enjoy the garden and golf. Mostly we're enjoying each other. So far his doctors tell him to keep on doing whatever it is he's doing. Like I give him a choice.
Every day there are new opportunities on the cancer treatment scene, and we have the absolute best team of doctors that insurance companies can screw with. My most immediate concern is how I'll manage without him if he's Raptured May 21st, cuz' all I got going for me is the faith of a mustard seed.
Rich is doing well. According to the doctors he has seen so far this month, he's doing very well. I'm waiting for McGee and Peiffer to weigh in next week. Until then, I'll bring you up to speed....
The final tubing was pulled May 9th. I no longer have to flush the picc line daily and do a weekly sterile dressing change. More importantly, Rich no longer has to wait until I'm around to wrap his arm so he can take a shower. He can shower whenever he wants!!!! For the first time since July 5th, 2010. Please take an extra moment to contemplate that
He's gained a bit of weight. He no longer looks like a Civil War prisoner. Now he looks more like a scarecrow that could use a bit more stuffing. The man is a stud muffin just waitin' to happen.
Some days he feels better than other days. The pain is less frequent and less intense. At least that's what he tells me, but I wake up 2-3 times at night to the sound of the TUMS bottle rattling.
Some days he can enjoy quite a bit of activity. Some days he has to lay down between every little effort. So far he has me convinced that his exhaustion does not correlate to chores. I'm simple that way.
The only thing hampering his golf game is the weather.
His color is good, his outlook is better and his attitude puts me to shame.
Currently there are no medical plans on the horizon. After everything he's been through, we're right back to where we were before the treatment that almost killed him. Part of me fears (and is relieved) that there is nothing more they have to offer; Rich believes them when they say he just needs more time to heal and they want him to enjoy his summer. We're a pair, yes we are.
We're enjoying the four babies in our lives (and two more on the way!!) If it ever stops raining we'll enjoy the garden and golf. Mostly we're enjoying each other. So far his doctors tell him to keep on doing whatever it is he's doing. Like I give him a choice.
Every day there are new opportunities on the cancer treatment scene, and we have the absolute best team of doctors that insurance companies can screw with. My most immediate concern is how I'll manage without him if he's Raptured May 21st, cuz' all I got going for me is the faith of a mustard seed.
Monday, May 16, 2011
"So Long and Thanks for all the fish......"
....so sad it had to come to this..."
Last week I caught a news story on NPR. A certain Christian Fundamental Sect has announced the Day of Judgment. May 21st , 2011. I tried to capture the thread and details of the report, but the major thrust of the story blurred my concentration.
On May 21st of this year we shall experience The Judgment Day. No really. Not the daily judgment day that rolls as background music in your every day waking consciousness if you were reared in any Judea-Christian religion. The Real, Serious, Holy Crap Judgment Day. At this point in my life I'm more relieved than terrified.
For those of you not schooled in Christian Fundamental Terrorism.....Judgment Day is when the Truly Righteous of this World will be transported into Heaven via the Rapture, and the rest of us will be Left Behind.
I for one, will miss the Dolphins. While I have never made the personal acquaintance of one of their species, just knowing they were here always made me feel just a bit better about the Planet.
As I contemplated the loss of the Righteous Ones I slowly began to process the announcement of their departure. In doing so, I was reminded yet again why I fail so miserably at the Christianity interpretation of the Bible as Gospel approach to relationship with the Divine.
First of all, I can never get past the “Judge not lest you be judged.” and “He who is without sin cast the first stone”, and “Do unto others as you would have done unto you.” I just can't get beyond those three commands so that I can move into the realm of interpreting the Bible as written by Men and edited by Men and translated through several languages by Men, so that I know how to tell other people how they should think, behave and live.
My basic inadequacy with Scripture is that I never know when I'm supposed to take it literally and when I'm supposed to intuit that it's a metaphor, a parable or merely a suggestion. If it's all to be taken literally I am so screwed. I like bacon way too much and I've been known to have a glass of milk with my roast beef, and I'm fairly certain I've worn fabric of a taboo blend of fibers. I still haven't figured out if the Sabbath begins on Sunday morning or sundown on Friday. NO where in the Scriptures can I get a clue on the whole Christmas thing and I'm fairly certain the Easter Bunny is a pagan ringer.
I continue to struggle with it all, not because of any desire or belief that the Old and/or New Testament is the One True Path. I'll be real honest here and admit that my Celtic/Native American DNA has pretty much hard-wired me to fear all things Christian. Seriously. I come from a long line of human beings who learned that these people are not to be messed with and it's best to keep a close eye on them.
Still. I can't get past Jesus' words that “no one will know the day or the hour.”
I am confused.
Are we supposed to know the day and hour or are we supposed to focus on being ready?
I'm ready.
I've made more mistakes than I care to claim. I have more often than not been selfish, and petty and down right bitchy. Now and then I have been better and braver than I would have ever believed I could be and I will never take credit for those moments because no one was more surprised by them than me. Every day of my life I grieve the injuries I have caused to others. Every day I work harder to move away from the meanness of this life and focus on the joy, beauty and divine that is in every moment all around us.
Every day I stumble and get frustrated and sometimes angry and there is nothing for it but chocolate, or a good movie, or some fine yarn and a glass of wine.
So May 21st is Judgment Day. The Righteous will be Raptured and the rest of us left behind to endure the End times. No disrespect intended, but if I were God, I'd rapture WalMart, McDonalds and Exxon so the rest of the world could flourish and live in peace, health and prosperity.
I'll miss the Dolphins. (Not their presence of course, but knowing they're here) I won't miss birthdays, or Christmas that begins on October 30, or all the holidays that are begun too soon and spun too far from their meaning. I won't miss people complaining about the weather.
I'm ready. Not like I have a choice. Still, I'm ready. So. On May 21st I plan to curl up on my couch and I will be watching my DVD of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for the umpteenth time. Because if the world is going to end, I firmly believe that Douglas Adams has a far superior explanation of it's demise, and for that matter, it's creation and purpose.
After the Righteous are Raptured I figure we just need to lumber along until 12-21-12 when the Mayan calendar marks the Final End. I'm good. I have a plan.
Last week I caught a news story on NPR. A certain Christian Fundamental Sect has announced the Day of Judgment. May 21st , 2011. I tried to capture the thread and details of the report, but the major thrust of the story blurred my concentration.
On May 21st of this year we shall experience The Judgment Day. No really. Not the daily judgment day that rolls as background music in your every day waking consciousness if you were reared in any Judea-Christian religion. The Real, Serious, Holy Crap Judgment Day. At this point in my life I'm more relieved than terrified.
For those of you not schooled in Christian Fundamental Terrorism.....Judgment Day is when the Truly Righteous of this World will be transported into Heaven via the Rapture, and the rest of us will be Left Behind.
I for one, will miss the Dolphins. While I have never made the personal acquaintance of one of their species, just knowing they were here always made me feel just a bit better about the Planet.
As I contemplated the loss of the Righteous Ones I slowly began to process the announcement of their departure. In doing so, I was reminded yet again why I fail so miserably at the Christianity interpretation of the Bible as Gospel approach to relationship with the Divine.
First of all, I can never get past the “Judge not lest you be judged.” and “He who is without sin cast the first stone”, and “Do unto others as you would have done unto you.” I just can't get beyond those three commands so that I can move into the realm of interpreting the Bible as written by Men and edited by Men and translated through several languages by Men, so that I know how to tell other people how they should think, behave and live.
My basic inadequacy with Scripture is that I never know when I'm supposed to take it literally and when I'm supposed to intuit that it's a metaphor, a parable or merely a suggestion. If it's all to be taken literally I am so screwed. I like bacon way too much and I've been known to have a glass of milk with my roast beef, and I'm fairly certain I've worn fabric of a taboo blend of fibers. I still haven't figured out if the Sabbath begins on Sunday morning or sundown on Friday. NO where in the Scriptures can I get a clue on the whole Christmas thing and I'm fairly certain the Easter Bunny is a pagan ringer.
I continue to struggle with it all, not because of any desire or belief that the Old and/or New Testament is the One True Path. I'll be real honest here and admit that my Celtic/Native American DNA has pretty much hard-wired me to fear all things Christian. Seriously. I come from a long line of human beings who learned that these people are not to be messed with and it's best to keep a close eye on them.
Still. I can't get past Jesus' words that “no one will know the day or the hour.”
I am confused.
Are we supposed to know the day and hour or are we supposed to focus on being ready?
I'm ready.
I've made more mistakes than I care to claim. I have more often than not been selfish, and petty and down right bitchy. Now and then I have been better and braver than I would have ever believed I could be and I will never take credit for those moments because no one was more surprised by them than me. Every day of my life I grieve the injuries I have caused to others. Every day I work harder to move away from the meanness of this life and focus on the joy, beauty and divine that is in every moment all around us.
Every day I stumble and get frustrated and sometimes angry and there is nothing for it but chocolate, or a good movie, or some fine yarn and a glass of wine.
So May 21st is Judgment Day. The Righteous will be Raptured and the rest of us left behind to endure the End times. No disrespect intended, but if I were God, I'd rapture WalMart, McDonalds and Exxon so the rest of the world could flourish and live in peace, health and prosperity.
I'll miss the Dolphins. (Not their presence of course, but knowing they're here) I won't miss birthdays, or Christmas that begins on October 30, or all the holidays that are begun too soon and spun too far from their meaning. I won't miss people complaining about the weather.
I'm ready. Not like I have a choice. Still, I'm ready. So. On May 21st I plan to curl up on my couch and I will be watching my DVD of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for the umpteenth time. Because if the world is going to end, I firmly believe that Douglas Adams has a far superior explanation of it's demise, and for that matter, it's creation and purpose.
After the Righteous are Raptured I figure we just need to lumber along until 12-21-12 when the Mayan calendar marks the Final End. I'm good. I have a plan.
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