This is Fred. I write about him at the very last of my entry for today. He is big and noisy and Brent is helping him to learn some manners.
When everyone was here for Christmas, I got us all together and snapped a photo. I am really wishing now that I had gotten a professional to come in. This one gets all of our faces, but it looks really, really dumb. Especially me.
This photo, on the other hand, is a wonderful, wonderful memory of Brent and me a year ago when we went to visit Megan and Anton when Jon was born. I had forgotten that I even had it. I like it so much that I am going to print it off--along with the photo below--and send it to Brent for his office. I know that he doesn't like the one that he has there now--it is tucked away in a funny corner wall of his office. I will make this one HUGE so that everyone can see how handsome he is and how perfect we are together.
Earlier tonight, about 5 pm, I spoke with Brent while he was still at work. Then I took the bunnies with me on the porch and moved all of the plants out of the huddle that had protected them from the freezing temperatures we had last week. It was like I was stretching my own legs out and reaching my face up to the sky to feel the sun. I transplanted some new babies and gave just about everyone some new soil. I'll fertilize more later, when the plants have had a chance to settle down. A few days ago, I visited Lowe's garden section (after two nights of below freezing temperatures) and found these dainty, perfectly proportioned miniature roses. There were also some bougainvillea with blossoms that were a water colour mix of orchid pink and nectarine orange. Nice plants, yes. BUT the most amazing part of the whole experience was that when I saw them, I realized that THEY had SURVIVED the FREEZE OUT DOORS AT LOWE'S!!!

So, I now have some bougainvillea (isn't that a wonderful word to spell???) in odd places about my yard and some tea roses in clusters of pots around the lanai.

Tonight I was filling some pots and with soil from the bottom pan of the small "hot house" that Brent fashioned for me--and with each handful of dirt, I kept scooping up these fat, lethargic earthworms. The soil had been dry, but deep enough to keep them from freezing or dehydrating. I picked them up and held each one in my hand--and each one began to move around! It was like a miracle. I know that it wasn't, but it felt that way. And I know that they are only earthworms--but they are earthworms that squirm among the roots of my newest plants and help them to grow--so they are MY earthworms. After placing each worm in a pot of soil, I gave each some water and watched them burrow down below the surface.

After spending New Year's with my own children and my grandson, I've been feeling very old and kind of dried up. The cold has kept me in and I didn't cover one of my favorite plants in the front yard well enough--so it is now limp and, well, dead. The rabbits run around and frisk me for treats and come for pats when they are feeling mellow. I feed the cat and let her in when she scratches at the glass doors on the porch. My son has me do Chemistry and History and Math with him. My husband lets me get him something to eat when he comes home at 9:30 at night after 14 hours of a day trying to help to fix a HUGE, but ACCIDENTAL, mistake someone else made. I do a lot of motions that have to do with a lot of people around me, but, mostly, I am not all that essential to the lives of those who live around me.

I did save some earthworms today, though, and that makes me like myself a bit better than I would have otherwise.

Felicia is in town showing her stallion at the horse shows going on over the next few weeks in Wellington--about a 30 minute drive from my house. She still cares for my own Agraciada who lives with her in Texas. I hope that we can spend some time together while she is here. It will give me another chance to connect with a person and with memories that are important to me.

Megan and I made cards while she was here--she sends lots of them out to lots of people who need her care and support where she lives in Maryland. I made a lot of them, too, but I don't really have people who need me like she is needed. Both Meg and Lauren are amazing people. I hear about and watch them go about their business and remember that I used to be that busy and ernest and focused and dedicated. Now, I think that I am mostly tired.

That is allowed me, though. Brent took me to the walk-in clinic here and they put me on antibiotics and some steroid breathing therapy. After a week of coughing and grouching and feeling itchy and hollow inside, I find out that I have the equivalent of walking pneumonia. So. We have a three day weekend and I have lots of time to sleep and muffle about the house while Brent works on our newest baby: Fred.

The Grand Cherokee is dying: the bearings are going out, so Brent bought a huge "mudder" Jeep. His heart is 1976 and most of his body is 1990. He is a golden pumpkin bronze and has 33 inch tires.

So Brent works on civilizing Fred so that I can drive him while I sleep and cough and snort and wheeze--and admire Brent's work and order the parts that Brent needs on-line.

It is late now. Brent is asleep, breathing quietly, while I finish this. Happy New Year. It's OK to be tired and old every now and again . . . especially when Brent is fixing up a new Jeep for us to drive when I feel better and have energy and am young again.

!!!!!

Two of the Memories That I Hold Dear

This is a jumper that my sister Susan made for me when our family was living in Tampa, FL. I know that it took her lots of time and love to produce such a unique piece--it became one of my favorite things to wear.
Brent caught this picture of me on a sweet gelding named Curly. He was probably between 16 and 19 years old and he was the first horse that I ever leased. On him I did fly--he was so careful of me that I did not fall. On him, riding was fun--I was lucky to have such a good teacher at the beginning of my riding career. I think I was 31 or 32.

Post Christmas WOW!

I was in the middle of absolutely nothing about a week ago and I was thinking about how marvelous something was and that I needed to write about it. It had something to do with my body or Christmas or my new computer . . . I think. Anyway.

We had both sets of missionaries come for dinner yesterday (Sunday) afternoon. This means:

1. I cooked a fabulous, diverse dinner menu

2. The rabbits pretty much got ignored

3. The house is still spotless--because Brent will not have a dirty house when company is coming.

This cleaning thing is one of the most obvious differences between him and me. I was looking through a pile of photos taken earlier this year. In two of them, my Visiting Teacher is vacuuming my living room. Now this is a young mother with five young children, a very big home and yard, and a husband who has a demanding job and a Church calling that keeps him away from home way too many evenings every week. Jen Shultz, though, came and we folded laundry together. Then, we walked through the house just talking. She spotted my vacuum sitting in a corner of the room and asked me if I would mind if she vacuumed my house. Thoroughly non-plussed by a request that would have completely embarrassed my sweet husband, I happily agreed to her offer.

Brent is the person who cleans our hotel room before they come to make the beds and change the towels--so that housekeeping won't think that we are messy. I am a person who figures that these talented women (for they usually are women) have magically been provided to take care of me--and I am more than happy to leave the room the way it is so that they are free to do what they will. When I see a hotel cleaning person in the hallway, I try to waylay them for a moment so that I can thank them for taking care of me and my family. Brent would rather die than be in the hotel room when a hotel worker brings us extra towels. (OK--that is a way big exaggeration--but you understand my point?)

More about Jennifer. She ran marathons, ran her children back and forth to activities and school, played the piano for Primary and taught her children to play a three-person-six-hands-triplet (?) for an informal piano recital with friends. She has had 5 children--her oldest is now about 10 years old. I admire Jen very much and am so very blessed that she counts me among her friends.

I have vague memories of such energy and spirit in my earlier existence--half a life ago. I am slow--way slower--now. Falling off of horses too many times, dancing ballet and doing gymnastics (a whole lifetime ago), increasing deafness in my hearing, manic depression, arthritis, narcolepsy, sleep depravation, a flood, a hurricane, tornados, two operations to replace my lower left thumb joint and three major attempts to re-build my right shoulder, three pregnancies and the anguish of giving birth, my mother's death, weeks when I could not sleep and months when I slept for 22 hours a day--and months when I couldn't leave my bedroom--have worn my body and my desire to learn patience very much out. Unlike some people who say that their high school years or their missions were the best times of their lives, I consciously try to tuck the things that happened before yesterday most snuggly into their far corners of my mind.

Of course, there are other events in my life that I often pull forward to replay again and again: the moment that I said "Yes." to the question of whether I would marry Brent, flying over fences and fields on horseback, flying through the steps of a ballet exercise and jumping into the air--so close to flying, laying on the hot sand of a beach and hearing the waves softly "fuesh . . . fuesh" nearby, reading wonderful books, giving talks and speeches and teaching, singing in front of others, playing the piano, playing my flute with mom a long time ago, singing to myself as I pull up weeds, dancing to the radio when no one was around to see me, having Brent curl me up on his lap and hearing his sweet tenor voice in my ear. learning how to tease bits of plants into growing into very tall and beautiful versions of their parents, the instant before I fall into sleep with Brent's even breathing as a lullaby. Even some of the painful parts I return to--the thumb, the shoulder--have elements that I return to. I treasure the moment when I realized that I would be completely able to use my left hand again--and the sweet self-revelation that I could lift my arm to lead the music or climb to the tops of trees without pain or weakness. My children are all an essential, joyful part of each of my days--though they brought searing pain with their arrival, they have returned excitement and wonder far beyond their purchase price.

My word. I am sounding maudlin tonight.

This January I will be taking a math class and an elementary photography class--black and white film and learning to process the pictures we capture. I discovered today that the junior college also teaches flying lessons and offers preparation classes for certification in both small planes and helicopters. I have also looked into the county's Master Gardener certification program. And I have a new computer and a new camera and time to visit my sisters, brothers, my father and Cindy. Tonight we bought a Jeep Wrangler--tricked out for mudding--which means that it is pretty much useless for street transportation. I am glad that Brent knows the process for getting it into the shape and that he will let me help where I can. It will be a new, intoxicating adventure.

And I am learning how to weld!!!!!

Every day there are the common, routine things. There is still laundry and dishes--though Nate pitches in and pretty much takes care of the kitchen. I am still full time tutor for him--but I like that part of our relationship. We are becoming better and better friends. He is trying to teach me how to play Mario Brothers on our Wii. Tonight he ended up carrying me a good chunk of the time so that I didn't keep dying. He tells me which moves I should make when we make chess so that I can beat him--and he just came in to ask if I wanted dinner--he will call me when it is done.

It bothers me that I don't have the same athletic body I did twenty years ago and I hate that I have to keep constantly aware to guard against the manic or the depression that a med failure allows. BUT I love that I am a size 6 and that I have a pool table and a very old baby grand piano in my living room instead of a couch and two end tables with lamps. I especially love that Brent thinks that I am beautiful and talented and wonderful and that I could never do anything that would push him away from me. I love that I have my own "nesting area" where it is OK for me to keep things in a relative chaos and where I am comfortable and can be creative. I love that I have a pool and a huge yard and three bunnies that I can push around in a pet stroller when I go for a walk with Brent in the evening.

I'm still not all that excited about being short. The absent minded thing can be a real inconvenience, too.

I am excited about Meg and La coming in a week and about Brent sitting with me on the couch later on while we watch The Big Bang or a Netflix movie. I love that I can dress up or wear my grubby garden clothes--and that Brent thinks that I am incredible no matter how I look.

New year's resolutions? Definitely not to petition, or to practice, patience. I know I would like to find more time to spend with Brent--just being with him--and more time with the Lord--just listening to Him. Two good ones to start with.

This is one of the presents that Lauren made for Brent and me to give to the people that he works with every day. The majority are sweater monsters and hand-bound books with incredible cover creations. I like this shadow box. It reminds me of when we had a horse while living in Tampa, FL. Meg and La would ride bareback and once in a while one of them would start to slide a little bit sideways and then a little bit more and then a little bit more and then BPOOMP! land on the ground. Both were so casual about it--they just got back up and went on their way. Now Lauren and Megan and Nathan are all grown up. When people ask me what I'm doing now . . . I can tell them about classes I'm taking at the local junior college and about the plants I'm working with in my yard . . . and about my three dwarf rabbits. It doesn't feel like I have all that much to do anymore. My sister Martha talked with me on the phone this morning and she described all the things that her four boys were involved with and where they were all going this summer. I am still stuck in a vision of me holding an infant Nathan in my arms and crossing the street with Megan holding onto my jeans pocket one one side and Lauren holding onto my jeans pocket on my other side.

I can remember twenty five years ago like it was yesterday, but I have a hard time remembering if I have an appointment tomorrow. I went to see a doctor who worked with Alzheimer's patients--I was driving myself crazy with all of the doctor appointments and Church activities and school deadlines I was forgetting. He had his assistant do a battery of tests with me. He came in and asked me why I was there. He admitted to me that on one of the tests I had gotten 100% correct--something that had never happened before. I did not have Alzheimer's or any other form of dementia--I was just busy thinking about lots of stuff--stuff that didn't have to do with day-to-day commitments. So . . . I'm not going crazy. I'm just not paying attention to the world around me. Perhaps I'm just on a parallel plane with the world that everyone else around me inhabits and I just happen to be very visible in both places . . . Christmas is coming and I get to have all of my children with me for New Year's. I shall try very hard to be tuned into this world by the time that they arrive.

I keep thinking about all the things that I would like to be writing about . . . and then jotting them down on the empty pages of my day timer or on the next clean page in the spiral notebook that I have with me or on scraps of paper that I know I will remember later. And I don't. I just have to go on record before the end of this year to tell those who will read this that I am very content with who and where and what I am. I spent so much of my life preparing for . . . something . . . that I knew was coming . . . sometime . . . somehow. I have finished preparing and I am living. I am beautiful. I am beloved. I am talented. I am blessed. I have everything to offer. I have been given everything.

Tonight Brent and Nate were with me at the mall. There were hundreds of people there--a welcome contrast to the echoing walls that met us when we shopped there a month ago. Nate went to buy me a Christmas present and Brent went with him. I went on to the Hallmark place and found the Christmas gift bags and tissue paper that I needed to finish preparing Brent's office people gifts for this year. Before I had paid for my purchase, Brent was there in the store looking for me. We walked to the end of the mall where Nathan was shopping and Brent went in to see if Nate was almost done. In the mean time, I rode the escalators up and down--several times--and watched some 5 or six year old boys throwing pennies into one of the mall's many fountains. I actually stopped and began to get some change out so that I could "make a wish" along with them. I thought for a moment, and then continued walking--there was nothing that I would wish for.

Megan is in Maryland tonight and they have cancelled Church tomorrow and school--some classes in the middle of finals--for Monday. She says that there hasn't been this much snow in Maryland for years. She is home and safe, though, and has much to do to prepare for their family trip to California to visit Anton's mom, Ann, for Christmas. I called her on Thursday? Friday? to let her know that her Christmas package was in the mail. I felt so clueless when she told me that they would be gone from Monday until she returned from visiting us in mid-January. I thought that I would be getting everything there early--and she won't be able to open anything until two weeks after New Years.

The shots that they gave me in my back two weeks ago have made such a bit difference. I get up and I see things that need to be done--and then I just go and do them. No longer is my entire allotment of energy squandered on getting out of bed, getting dressed, eating more than twice a day--and getting both morning pills and evening pills into me at pretty close to the prescribed time of day. We planted plants this morning--I point out where I want Brent and Nathan to dig the holes for me. I add a little cured bunny litter and shavings and water--lots of water. This paradise . . . I just dosed offf tjinningkkk aviyt gett ubg Neoesd , Giid ujjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjZZ

So I didn't post this last night. I am ready for Church before Nathan and Brent this morning, however, and so I will finish this entry now. It is cold enough outside today that Nathan came and asked me if I had a sweater that he could wear--his suit is in the cleaners. Unfortunately, (or fortunately--depending on your view of the situation) he is 6' tall and weighs 178 pounds and I am 5'2" and weigh 127 pounds--and so, even though I do have several very-plain-could-be-worn-by-a-male-type-person, I didn't have anything to offer him. I think that the snow Maryland got Friday night and yesterday--closing just about everything, including Sunday this morning--might have finally pushed out the 80-90 degree weather we've experienced lately down into cooler temps that at least begin to put a United States/Scandinavian Christmas tradition into the hearts of all us Floridians.

Yesterday was wonderful. We planted stuff in the gardens around our home and then went to see AVITAR--an incredible experience (even though we saw it in 2-D rather than 3-D) that still fills my memory and floats just at the edge of my vision. After that--mall and then gas in the car and then shopping at Publix for stuff. Then we came home and I played with my rabbits while Brent and Nathan unloaded the groceries. It was a glorious day. If yesterday were my last day on Earth, that is the day that I would have chosen.

Today is going to be another day like yesterday. I am almost breathless in anticipation as I try to imagine what will be in it.

Playing With Fire

I have finally downloaded the Photoshop program that came with my drawing pad. I had it on my computer, but I didn't have the time or the interest to figure out how to use it. Last week I was messing around and came out with this picture. I know that Brent doesn't like it when I alter images. For him, photographs are photographs--a picture that captures a particular moment or event. I like trying new things with the photos that I have downloaded or scanned into my picture files. It makes me feel like an artist. I am changing reality and making it into something else. Dangerous? Changing my view of the past can be unsettling for some, I guess. My memories have never been precise images of what actually transpired--no one does. It is amazing to me that any of us can communicate with each other about shared events. State of mind, self image, focus, vocabulary differences, age and purpose all tweek "reality" to fit into our memories--who we are now. Changing pictorial expressions of what was before, crisp photographs, lets me feel that I am in control of my future. Changing the heat--the bad things, the lonely things, the embarrassing things--that produced me imbues me with the ability of a creator--an artisan who can, with incredible heat and force,dd take weak metal and layer and pound out the bad spots and make me stronger than I was before. The difficulties that have been part of my past are gone, but I can take what is there and use it to shape what I do, who I am, today.

Less is Better

This is the picture I was trying to upload. I guess the interior fixed its error.
I just tried to upload an image of my Brent and me when we were in Maryland, visiting my daughter and her husband when her first baby was born. The blog says that an internal error prevented the upload. I will try later.

I am watching Modern Marvels on the History channel and one of the commercial that just played was one of Magic Johnson--an athlete that I had held in high esteem because of what I have read and heard about him. He was selling the Rent to Own program as a source of "what's best for your family" because you don't need to worry about having no credit or even bad credit. I have known families that "buy" from this company and the things they invest in are huge TVs or stereo systems that they pay on until things get (more) economically difficult these things are repossessed--leaving them nothing for their years of payments. I have a hard time seeing Johnson hyping this company using the example of his mother working two jobs and raising a family at the same time. I just don't think that she was working to afford a 60-inch screen plasma TV for her kids to watch when they got home from school.

Most of the other commercials have to do with "spending smarter." Buy a new computer at WalMart because it's cheaper there. Buy a new car that gives you a year of gas so that you spend less on fuel that first year. Change your insurance from one company to another because you pay less--but EVERYONE can't cost less--eventually it would get to the point where it was free--or the next stage, where the company paid YOU to let them provide insurance coverage. No one talks about the fact that most elementary, high school and even college students need a 2-pound, 1/2-inch thick, 36-inch screen computer to do the word processing and simple internet communicating that they really need to succeed. Keep the car you already have and save the money you'd be paying on a new car payment--or even better, take the bus, your bike, or walk. Buy less so that you have less to insure.

People spend money on strange things--I am no different. When Brent wanted a metal detector--we bought him one. When I wanted to visit my sisters in Minnesota--we bought me a plane ticket. When Nathan needed motivation to finish geometry--I bribed him with a Wii. When a movie that we want to see first comes out--we pay full price and see it in the theatre rather than waiting for it to come out in DVD.

We drive old cars. We fly coach. We have never been on a cruise or to Europe on vacation. We don't wear designer clothes or live in a big house. Our biggest splurge is in keeping the house extra cool during the summer and in having a house with a pool so that I can swim when I want. Brent also lets me buy flowers to plant in our yard when it would be cheaper to keep everything grass and just mow it every week. We spend hundreds of dollars on meds and doctors every month to keep us sane and pain free and healthy.

We all chose our own poison, I guess . . . and if I had to chose only one, mine would be Brent.