Sunday, December 4, 2016

Mystery Rock


This pretty little rock -- small enough to hide in the palm of my hand -- was decorating the potted bulbs I mentioned yesterday. I was intrigued by it and wondered what it was -- orange quartz mixed with something else or agate or . . .? Bits of it look like polished ivory.



Plus, as John pointed out, it really looks like a netsuke waiting to happen -- maybe if I turn it this way . . .

I've spent a lot of time picking up pretty rocks but have never seen one quite like this. So I called Nancy and asked where it came from.

From a bag of decorative rocks in the garden supply section at Lowes was the answer.

So now I need to find out from whence Lowes sources their rocks.

(Time on  my hands . . .)


Saturday, December 3, 2016

Brightening the Corner Where I Am . . .


The past few days brought some charming additions to the decor of my cell room. Nancy, Claui's mom, put together this pot with a white amaryllis bulb as well as some paperwhite narcissi,  in the midst of variegated ivy. It will be a pleasure to watch the green shoots growing.


And a longtime blog friend, professional quilter Pepper Cory, sent me this lovely quilt from her stash. It does a great job of brightening up the room and making me smile.



And speaking of quilts and longtime blog friends, Therese in Toulouse sent me this beautiful publication about making penny quilts using a combination of wool felt, regular fabrics, and embroidery. I can't wait to try this. I was thrilled to find that, though it's all in French (of which I had one brief summer course in college over fifty years ago,) I can understand it well enough to make sense of it.

I have felt such support from all of you during the past two months -- online well-wishes and cheerful chatter, prayers, healing vibes, cards, letters, flowers, books, food, fruit, and chocolate. Even the odd healing spell or two.

I am so blessed. Many thanks, my dear friends!



Friday, December 2, 2016

Miss Birdie and the Caged Crow


Oh, my, I didn't hear you come in the room, Lizzie Beth. I reckon you think I'm crazy, setting here on the side of the bed and jigging about like a crazy woman.  Come on in and get you a seat in my wheelchair.

I ain't lost my wits -- them was my exercises. The therapy girls showed me what I need to do to get strong enough to where I can get around with a walker, oncet that bone doctor says I may. And oncet I can do that, Lizzie Beth, why then I can go home.

Dor'thy has said she'll stay with me as long as I need her and, law, how I do want to be gone! The folks here is all good somebodies and I couldn't have made it without them but it ain't home. The water don't taste right, for one thing. And there ain't that much to look at except the TV, the trees and sky outside the window, and this picture here at the foot of my bed.

I been studying on that picture right much. Reckon where that is? Some fine city in the olden days . . . maybe Charlotte, do you think? Look at that horse pulling that pretty red wagon and all the fancy folks out taking the air. That woman in the long white dress had best watch out though. The pavement looks wet and was a wagon to come by on her side, that fine dress would get ruint for sure.

Oh, listen to me run on. I get so tired of the TV that I spend a lot of time thinking about that picture and wondering where all them folks is going. Imaging the sound of the horse's hooves and the smell of rain on the pavement and the sweet smell of all them flowers over there to the right . . . In that picture ain't a bad place to be, though there is too many buildings and not enough trees for my taste.


But I'll tell what else I think about, especially when I'm setting here doing these exercises. I think about the time Cletus brung home a crow with a broken wing. He wanted me to carry him to the animal doctor but I called first and the doctor said that what we should do was to cut the toe out of a sock and make a kind of sleeve to put over that old crow. He said it would hold his wing close to his body so that it would heal.  And he said to leave it on for about six weeks before we took it off.

So Cletus fixed a cage and we got a sock on the old crow and fed him dogfood and hard boiled eggs. The crow was right calm about the whole affair -- crows have a lot of sense, you know.

Howsomever, when at last it come time to take the sock off, that crow would set there on his perch and flap his wings -- just a little bit at first but then more and more and harder and harder, like he was getting ready to fly. And at last we figured he was ready.

Cletus opened the door of the cage and that crow just set there looking, then, big as life, he hopped out onto the grass, spread his wings, and took off flying, getting higher and higher till he reached the trees across the road. Law, it was such a sweet sight, me and Cletus both like to busted out crying for happiness.

So that's how come you to find me setting on my bed and waving my arms and legs like a crazy woman. Honey, I'm a-making ready to fly the coop!



Thursday, December 1, 2016

Sometimes a Kitten is the Best Medicine


These are from April, 2013, when the kittehs joined our menagerie. I'd forgotten how small they were -- and how difficult to tell apart when they were moving around,


They weren't sure about their new home after the security of their cage at the animal shelter.


But they quickly found things to do.


From sitting on the boom box . . .


To playing on the stairs . . .


Feather toys were good . . .


As was a convenient cap for a nap.


Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Disappointed!


X-rays showed good healing and bone growth BUT one tiny not-quite-ready-for-prime-time crevice. I will begin partial weight-bearing next Monday and, after 10-14 days of that, graduate to full weight-bearing, still in the boot. 

Somewhere in this time frame I should be able to go home -- as soon as I can navigate a bit with a walker. Home by Christmas, the doctor said, and I tried not to shriek But I want to be home yesterday.

The good news is that I'll have a further opportunity for weight loss.  I've lost about 16 pounds since I've been here in rehab . . . it's amazing how easy it is to turn down food that isn't appetizing. Fruit and food from home or near by places keep me going. Otherwise, I eat the protein and the more bearable veg that are served. 

This is a first world problem -- I could be in Aleppo or in a refugee camp or homeless. Or in any number of similarly dire situations. Time to do some exercises and get those neurotransmitters cranking.

Monday, November 28, 2016

The Bookseller



Even with exercise four times a day, there's still time for reading. THE BOOKSELLER was, for me, a quick and compulsive read. 

Set in Denver in 1962, it's the story of thirty-eight year old Kitty, a single woman who runs a struggling bookstore with her best friend. She's come to terms with the fact of being single and loves her life and her little apartment with the sunshine yellow bedroom.

Then the dreams begin. She wakes up in a sage-green bedroom, in bed with an attractive man who calls her Katharyn and seems to think they're married. With children.

As time goes by, Kitty begins to look forward to the dreams and the seemingly perfect suburban existence that is hers every night. Then things happen. . .

I can't say much more without major spoilers. It's a fun read with some thought-provoking points. What would have happened in my life if some pivotal moment had gone differently. . .?

The book also had me remembering the story of the Taoist philosopher Zhuangzi who dreamt that he was a butterfly, fluttering about and enjoying all the pleasures of a butterfly life -- only to awaken and wonder if perhaps he was a butterfly, dreaming he was a man.