"Cheap Joe"

I received a postcard from Cheap Joe today. Now I don't know Cheap Joe aka Joe Miller, personally, but he owns and operates the wonderful company where I am able to purchase many of my art supplies online.

I almost did not look closely at the postcard. I figured it was just an advertisement. But, I happened to turn the postcard over and take a closer look at it. And now I know what a class act Cheap Joe really is. This postcard mentioned the recent tornadoes in my area and offered to help replace any art supplies I may have lost that insurance would not cover.

I was stunned. I have never heard of a company doing this. But, as an artist, I guess Joe wanted to make sure his fellow artists had the supplies they needed to continue their artistic endeavors.

Fortunately, I was not in need of the help offered. But I did e-mail Joe thanking him for the thought.

With tears in my eyes.

Security

I was infuriated to read in the local paper today about another visitor to Vicksburg being mugged. An elderly retiree from another state suffered a broken arm and a facial cut requiring stitches. This is the second mugging of a tourist this year. Is that any way to treat our guests?

I know that this might not be unusual in many places, but this is a fairly new phenomenon in my small city. Mugging is something I used to think of as only occurring in places like New York City. Something I had only seen on TV.

But, now, mugging has come here, and it makes me mad. There was a time when you were almost 100% safe around town, as long as you stayed away from the few "historically" bad areas. Now, my church has had to hire a security guard to help keep our members safe when they are attending church functions at night.

I used to feel safe making a trip to the grocery at night as long as I parked in a well lit area and tried to enter and exit the store with other people. Now, since there have been a couple of strong arm robberies in the parking lot of my favorite store (in a good area of town!), I no longer feel free to do this. All because of a few punks wanting to steal a few bucks instead of working for them.

And the ironic thing is, many people around these parts would be happy to give someone a few dollars if they were asked politely.

But don't knock an elderly lady down and try to take her purse.

What goes around comes around. And you punks will get yours.

MG Days

Looks like this week is going to be mostly resting. My body is giving me some messages I know by now not to ignore. An MG flare-up for me usually starts with severe fatigue. Not the kind of fatigue people experience after being busy for days or generally overdoing it. I am talking about waking up as tired or more tired than when I went to bed. This kind of fatigue has me wanting to sleep 18-20 hours out of 24.

Next we have the choking. Loads of fun. No cornbread, rice, plain water, or crackers for me for a few days. I always find it ironic that I choke on plain water, but don't choke on carbonated beverages. Go figure. Thank goodness for Diet Coke!

My current fashion colors are black and blue. I am not falling exactly, more like just stumbling into things. And, of course, with the steroids I take and my naturally pale skin, I am sporting bruises literally from my shoulders to my ankles. I am a Spring. Black and blue are NOT in my palette!

My big activity of the day was one hour of church. Followed by two naps.

So, for the moment, I listen to my body.

Even if I am not crazy about the message. :P

A Little Guilty?

Myasthenia Gravis has taken a few things away from me. My ability to work on a steady basis, reliable vision (most 50 year olds don't have that anyway!), being able to sing as long as I want to, and the security of knowing that I can get from point A to point B without falling, among other things.

But, MG has given, as well. Retiring from my job has given me the time to do the "fun stuff." Singing for my great nephew's preschool class, teaching watercolor at the local Senior Center, working on my church's website, and helping an elderly friend learn to use her first computer brings me great joy.

Many of my 40 hour a week working friends would love to be able to do what I do. And sometimes, I have to admit, I miss the perks of full time work. Nice clothes, manicures, pedicures, massages, yearly vacations, and the fulfillment of being a professional are things of the past. But, I would not go back, even if it meant not having MG. Seriously. I feel like I am where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to do. Life is pretty good.

And I feel just a little...guilty.

Another Doctor?

The good news is that the steroid epidurals I had helped me get strength back in my ring and pinky fingers. A brace, worn at night, is helping the carpal tunnel symptoms. I can control my brush to paint again and I am not dropping hot pans on my pretty Corian countertops and burning them anymore. This is all good.

The not so good news is that the joints in my hands are still swelling and aching whenever I do much of anything. Simple things like typing for too long, stirring dough, holding a book, etc. make my hands puff up like those gloves on old cartoon characters and just ache. There may not be anything that can be done, but I just need to KNOW that, so I can adapt. And, if there is a solution, that is even better.

So, I await a referral to a rheumatologist. I was down to 7 doctors, doggone it!

Oh well, make it 8 again.

Lost Dog/Found Dog

Last Saturday, my sweet stepmom's son, Eddie, lost his truck and his house trailer in the tornado that ripped through Eagle Lake. On Sunday, Eddie's old dog, a 13 year old Sharpei mix, nosed his way out of the fenced in backyard that was his temporary home.

Eddie accepted the loss of his home and truck. They could be replaced. But Kelo could not. Calls were made to local vets, radio stations, and shelters in hopes that Kelo would be found. I called neighbors with a description and asked them to call my number if he turned up at one of their houses. People were praying that he would be found. But, nobody had seen Kelo.

Bill and I were driving home from a fundraiser for the fire damaged Bovina Cafe when, about a mile from home, we spotted a brownish looking dog with a wrinkly face walking down our street. We stopped immediately, and Bill tentatively approached the dog, made friends, and took hold of the dog's collar.

The only family number I had was for Eddie's sister in law. I immediately called it and asked if she and Eddie's wife could come see if this was, indeed, Kelo. As they drove up to where we were, both of these ladies broke out in big grins and gave the thumbs-up sign. We had found Eddie's old dog. Although stinky and hungry from almost a week of adventuring, Kelo was alive and unhurt.

Now Kelo is clean, fed, and reunited with his "Dad."

Kinda sounds like a country song. But this one had a happy ending.