Art Class

Today is my fun day. I get to teach (and I use that term very loosely!) watercolor class at the local Senior Center. I teach 2-3 times a month and would do more if my body would let me.

I could not do this without the help of my students. Several of them come early to help me set up. They put tables together, fill water buckets, tape the paper to the backboards, and drag the easel out the the closet. One precious lady insists on carrying my things out to the van when class is over.

It is so exciting to watch these ladies discover the fun and creativity of watercolor. It is so neat to see the excitement when they see what different techniques will result in. And with watercolor, no two pictures are ever exactly the same.

Who knows? The next Grandma Moses might just be in my class, ready to be "discovered."

New Orleans

I went to New Orleans this weekend to see my husband. I had not been since shortly before Katrina and was not sure what to expect.

On the way down, it was interesting to see the trees. On one side of the road, trees were almost bare, but foliage was sprouting in small patches from the broken limbs. On the other side of the road, the trees had leaves, but were bent and twisted into improbable shapes.

I did not go into the Quarter (alone on a mobility scooter, I did not think this a good idea) or the most heavily flood damaged areas (I was advised not to go there without a weapon!) but I did ride around much of New Orleans. It was nice to see that things looked very "normal."

I also met and talked to people who had come to Vicksburg as evacuees. I was really proud of my small city as they told me about our local merchants, who upon finding out that people were from New Orleans, either gave them discounts on merchandise or food, or just said "on the house."

All in all, I saw a city largely recovered, hopeful, and healing.

Sad

***Whine Alert***

You may want to stop here! :P

My husband did not call last night. He is 4 hours away in Louisiana, working an outage for another plant. He is supposed to be gone for a month or more. I know that he probably got too tied up at work to be able to get away to call. I feel like a teenager waiting for a call from a boy. I am sure he will call tonight and all will be fine.

My art teacher just called and canceled my lesson. We have not been able to get together in almost a month. I am learning a lot on my own, but I miss her. Like many painters, I need that second set of eyes to help me figure out what needs tweaking to make a painting the best it can be.

All my friends are crazy busy right now. And a problem with having friends close to my own age is that those who have not had hysterectomies are going through menopause all at once. Between the busyness and the hormones, I am giving everyone a wide berth. It gets lonely. But I know, this too will pass.

So, I think I am going to sign off, have a good cry, and move on.

Art Show

Last night I attended my first art show where I actually had my own art hanging. I was floored when I walked in, and an old friend greeted me with the news that one of my paintings (this one!) had sold to one of the patrons of the association. It was the most expensive one and although, after getting it framed and after the art association gets a cut, I won't "make" much, it is still a thrill. At least I have some cash to continue pursuing my new hobby.

It turns out that my friend's mother is the lady who called me to ask me to make food for the reception. We talked for a while at that time and she is sympathetic to the handicapped access situation. She has e-mailed other members and plans are being made to do what needs to be done to remedy this situation. I feel like I have an ally now in my quest to get this building more disability friendly. Not just for myself, but for others as well.

I did not win any prizes, but I did not expect to. Most of those go to the professional, established artists. I have to admit that some of the things that won awards are totally over my head as far as appreciation goes. I guess I am not "artsy" enough.

Some things are better off not being understood.

;)

Art Association

Today, I took my artwork for the upcoming show to the Firehouse Gallery. This is an older building and not disability friendly at all. There is also very little parking, and most of what is available is not level.

I parked on a slope and wrestled my walker out of the van. Then, I put my pictures on my walker and slowly began to make my way to the building. A lady who was about to get in her car offered to help, but I waved her on, thinking that I could get help from someone still inside.

Boy was I wrong! I got to the entrance to the building and tried to get someone to help me lift one side of my walker over the three inch stoop area. I was ignored for about 5 minutes, and then a lady taking submissions told me she would get to me later.

I waited until my legs were giving out, and went around to try to pull my walker over the stoop myself so I could get in and sit down while I waited. The submission lady finally came over and helped when she saw I was struggling. She was obviously not pleased that I took her away from her task.

I finally got my submissions entered, but the whole thing just left a bad taste in my mouth. At the opening meeting, only one person in the entire gathering offered assistance of any kind. These folks just do not seem very "disability friendly."

Don't get me wrong. I don't expect people to fall over backwards accommodating me. But a little help and/or understanding would be appreciated. Is that too much to ask?

It looks like it.

15

Sam turned 15 today. It just does not seem possible. What happened to the adorable tot who would toddle up to the fence and call for Bill? Now she is an aunt to a three year old herself.

I have such a "wish list" for young Samantha. I want her to see herself as the smart young lady she is. I want her to be happy. I want her to be with people who lift her up instead of dragging her down. I want her to avoid the pitfalls of alcohol and drugs. I want her to find her passion.

But, alas, MY wish list is not HER wish list. I just want the very best for her and I pray that, someday, she will want the best for herself.

Happy Birthday, Sam.

Weight Loss Challenge

Tomorrow I am going to bite the bullet and join a citywide weight loss challenge.

It is not going to be easy. Losing weight under even the best of circumstances never is. Put allergies to shellfish, ocean fish, oats, barley, legumes, cruciferous vegetables, apples, pears, bananas, grapes, strawberries, melons, and anything in the squash/gourd family and that makes it considerably harder.

In addition, I have to severely limit dairy due to sensitivities. I am not able to eat the "diet" dinners, shakes, bars, or other snacks without pretty unpleasant results. I have to also limit tomato, citrus, and peppers due to reflux.

Now, add in a daily dose of steroids. Oh, and the inability to exercise due to Myasthenia Gravis. Actually 5 of the 12 meds I take daily list weight gain as a side effect.

But, I don't want to be one of those bed bound people on TLC or Discovery Health, so I am going to have to find a way.

And I will.

50

Today is my 50th birthday. I can remember a time when 50 was ancient! Now, it is quite young!

I don't mind being 50. I am happier and more confident than I have been at any other time of my life. I would not be 20, 30, or even 40 again for any amount of money.

I had a lovely day. Birthdays remind me that I am blessed to have so many people who care about me.

And, for that, I am thankful.

The Panty Tree

Yesterday, the precious gentleman (who was my very first pastor as a child) went to Heaven to be with his God and his beloved wife Earline.

Brother Daniels was still preaching at tiny Yokena Presbyterian Church until two weeks ago. His sermons were just as relevant and current as those he preached when I was a small child.

The title of this post comes from an incident that happened at the preacher's house when I was about 5. There was a rope swing hanging from a low branch in this wonderful tree in his yard. It was one of those made from a board with a rope knotted through a hole drilled in the middle. I used to spend hours on that swing.

Well one day, I was turning around and around on that swing. I stopped, but when I went to get off the swing, I could not move. I had twisted and turned my "Her Majesty" ruffled panties around that rope until I was stuck tight. Miss Earline had to come out with scissors and cut me out of that swing. My fancy panties were ruined.

Brother Daniel's funeral will be Friday morning. It is now 45 years later, but I can rest assured that one of his children is going to mention the "panty story."

I guess some things are never meant to be lived down.

And sometimes, that is OK.

Donny

Yes. As in Osmond.

Donny was my first major crush as a young teen. I bought the Teen Beat magazines, the records, and the posters. That combo of olive skin, dark hair, and killer smile was the stuff of a thousand adolescent dreams. He was almost two years my senior which made him the "perfect" age.

As I got older, I outgrew the Osmond's music. But I never outgrew Donny. I followed the ups and downs of his career. I read about his family. I saw him in "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat."

Now he is on "Dancing With the Stars." Now an almost 52 year old father of 5 and grandfather of 2, the hair is a little thinner and middle a bit thicker. But I still think he is adorable.

And I am rooting for him.

Strange Dreams

Last night, I took my first dose of a cough syrup that my doc had prescribed so that I could hopefully stop coughing long enough to sleep.

That did not happen. It did calm this everlasting cough, but it made me wide awake. Thank goodness for Facebook at 2AM!

When I finally DID sleep, I had the strangest dream I have had in a very long time. For some reason, I was panicking about not calling my mama. I kept trying different phones and they were all broken. I was throwing the useless phones across the room. In my dream, my husband had to remind me that my mother is dead and has been for years.

Not sure what brought that dream on. Maybe it was a conversation I was having yesterday with a childhood friend whose mama was one of my mama's best friends. They were a colorful pair and are probably playing a never ending game of canasta up there in Heaven.

I still feel a bit bereft. On Christmas, Mama will have been gone 19 years.

But I still miss her. I guess I always will.

Baton Rouge

Tomorrow morning, my husband is leaving for Baton Rouge to work an outage at a nuclear plant located near there. He is looking forward to a change of scenery and a chance to make some good money towards his retirement.

He is set to be gone for about a month. He says that he may drive home on one of his days off. I just don't see the feasibility of driving 7 hours round trip to be home for less than a day. Of course, I am hoping to drive down there and stay with him a night or two and visit my cousins while he is at work.

I have never been home alone for more than 3 days or so without him. It is going to be a bit strange. Thankfully, although I will miss him, I am pretty self sufficient. I might even get the gumption to tackle some projects that I hesitate to start when he is home.

Of course, I can always paint! :)

Typhoid Karen?

For the past two weeks, I have had a garden variety cold. You know the kind where one starts off with a scratchy throat, then the sneezing starts and the last step is the cough that seems to last forever. No fever, headache, body aches, weakness, or anything else to suggest that it was anything more. I am quite reasonably certain that I do not have Swine flu! Last time I had flu of any kind, I was so weak I could barely make it from my bed to the bathroom.

I have taken all the normal precautions. I have stayed completely away from anyone considered high risk. The few times I have been out, I have clutched antibacterial wipes and kept people at arm's length.

I am one of those who opposes the use of antibiotics for things that they will not help, such as viral infections. Plus, they almost always mess with my myasthenia gravis, making me weaker than normal. So, I try to avoid them when I can.

But, symptoms are now pointing to the fact that this may have morphed into a chest infection of some sort, so tomorrow I am calling the doc.

Uncle!

Claiborne County

Today my husband and I went on a day trip to nearby Claiborne County. We both spent some of our growing up years down there, so it tends to be like going "home."

My husband and I are opposites. He is shy, where I am outgoing. He likes to watch the History Channel, while I can stay glued to "America's Got Talent" for hours. He likes to hike and camp. My idea of "roughing it" is a hotel without room service.

We do tend to have some difficulty coming up with things that we can do together. But today, we came up with a perfect activity. Bill took me on a tour of some of his favorite places in Claiborne County and I took pictures to serve as fodder for future watercolor projects. We took in everything from graveyards to the old Grand Gulf jailhouse. Bill knows so much of the area history in such detail that he makes a wonderful "tour guide."

We did pop into Jefferson County long enough to eat at the Old Country Store. Arthur Davis and his "so good it makes you want to slap your mama" fried chicken were featured in Alton Brown's "Feasting on Asphalt" series. The chicken was truly divine, as were the sweet potatoes and macaroni and cheese. Mr. Davis says that he cooks like he is cooking for himself. He just happens to share it with a few friends. I was mighty glad to be his friend today!

Lunch at the Old Country Store: $20.00 for two including tip.

Gas for the van: $35.00.

A great time with my husband of almost 26 years?

Priceless