BroomStick Betty

This moniker was hung on my mother by my brother-in-law, Barry. when he was a teenager dating my sister. Of course, to be fair, she started calling HIM Barry Bird first! 

The nickname stuck and became the genesis of a new hobby for mama. She began to collect witches. This was the era of the Kitchen Witch, and she had several of those. She had witches brought to her from all over the US and even from other countries. When she passed away in 1990, most of her friends chose one of her witches to remember her by. I still have one hanging in my office, a stuffed one with white hair, striped stockings, and pointed black shoes. 

If I was out with her and we saw a witch of some kind in a store or holiday display, I would shout MAMA! I think mom got a kick out of it. I remember mama expressing her disappointment when she found out the Good Witch of the North in The Wizard of Oz was Billie Burke, more known as a comedienne than the elegant, beautiful, Glinda. 

Even after almost 25 years, I still miss BroomStick Betty. I miss her singing. I miss watching her cooking in her witch filled kitchen. I miss her encouragement and her belief that I could do most anything I set my mind to. 

So, this Mother's Day, I will raise a glass of sweet tea and remember the best of my mama, BroomStick Betty, a true original.

Amy Graduates From College!

Today, my niece, Amy, graduates from the University of Southern Mississippi with a degree in English Licensure. I am quite proud of her and her choice to be a force in (hopefully!) saving the English language by teaching it to the next generations.

Where does the time go? It seems like just yesterday she was the baby who made me literally jump for joy the day she was born. The toddler who tried to get into the refrigerator to get more cherries for her fruit cocktail. The little girl who would sing the songs from Anastasia with me. The teen who would go with me to Tinseltown to see operas filmed at the Met. 

Amy has always done life on her own terms. No one is forcing her into any molds. She is dramatic, witty, smart, and enthusiastic. Someone posted a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson that made me think of Amy on this graduation day. 

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else 

is the greatest accomplishment. 

Congratulations, Amy. Your Aunt KK and Uncle Bill are proud of you. 

Now reach for the stars.    

Graduation

Yesterday, I officially *graduated* from speech therapy. I don't have my full singing voice back yet, but my *new* speaking voice is working to take the stress off of my vocal cords. I was truly surprised to hear the difference between my voice when I first walked into Lisa Lamb's office in Dominican Plaza, and the voice I had at my last visit yesterday. 

My new voice is slightly higher pitched than my old one. It is a little softer, but I can increase the volume when I really need to. As I work to regain my singing voice, I find myself extremely protective of what I have worked so hard to regain. Now, I put more thought into what things are worth using my voice for. At this point, I am not able or willing to try to spend time arguing over any but the most important things. I am not going to stress my new voice to speak over loud voices or noises. It is just too precious to risk. 

I am finding that this affects the way I interact in group situations. Thankfully, I usually have a good book on hand and can be quiet and enjoy gatherings from a distance. I want to save my voice for teaching, ministering, and encouraging. I want to continue to rest it enough to heal my singing voice completely. 

Today, I will raise a glass of sweet tea and toast the therapist who helped me speak again. 

Thanks, Lisa!

 

 

Discouraging words

I visited a surgeon today to discuss the possibility of surgery to help manage my severe reflux. I had surgery 10 years ago for this issue, but they sometimes need to be redone after about this length of time. I was hoping this might be a simple fix.

I was wrong.

Due to scar tissue from the first surgery, a second one would likely require a large, open incision. This, along with the possibility of rupturing the esophagus, makes it considerably more risky than the first was.

Before any decisions are made, there will be more tests and more waiting.

Meanwhile, the reflux is making it more difficult for my vocal cords to heal. I am in constant pain. My diet, already severely restricted by allergies, is even more limited.  Add no milk, yogurt, or ice cream, no citrus, no soy, no tomato, nothing fried, and almost no caffeine. I am living on carbs with small amounts of low fat cheese, some chicken and occasionally ground beef.  Even with supplements, I am simply not getting enough nutrients to keep my levels up. I am anemic, low in protein, potassium, and vitamin D. This makes me tired and lethargic, as well as slow to heal.

I am doing everything by the letter. I am not drinking anything carbonated. I am sleeping on a very high bed wedge. I am taking the strongest meds on the market. I am chugging $72.00 a bottle GI cocktail.  But, nothing is working. There is also a possibility that this is related to my neuromuscular issues and that there is no fix available.

This is one of those days that staying upbeat and hopeful is difficult. But, tomorrow is another day. Hopefully, it will be a better one.

Progress

I am continuing to make progress in speech therapy. I am now able to speak as long as I don't try to raise my voice or allow my voice to get fatigued. I am still encouraged not to speak on the phone any more than I have to, but I can live with that until my healing is more complete. 

Even more exciting is that I was allowed to vocalize briefly today! I don't have but a few low notes, but we are hoping that this will eventually improve. Compared to 3 weeks ago, when I had absolutely nothing, this is major. It has been 3 months since I have been able to sing anything. 

Interestingly, my speech therapist has identified some problems with my swallowing that appear to be connected with my congenital myopathy and we are working on ways to help me swallow more effectively and not choke as much. 

Monday, the doctor is supposed to have another look at my vocal cords.  I am anxious to see how the healing is going and how it corresponds to my progress in speech therapy.

Keep the prayers coming! Please.

Anger Management?

Last night, I made the mistake of posting a comment for the first time on the Dancing With the Stars voting page. I have been both agreed with and roundly criticized for my opinion.

I have never watched The Bachelor, but apparently, one of the contestants is this year's model, Chris. I know he is not a dancer, and I can't even imagine how hard DWTS must be for him.

However, last night, they showed an interaction with his very young partner, Witney, that really disturbed me. He became angry with her and spoke to her in a rude, arrogant, and disrespectful manner. It sent chills up my spine. I have been married to my husband for almost 32 years, and we have had our arguments. But, he has NEVER spoken to me the way that Chris spoke to Witney last night.

I hope his fiance´ was watching. I hope she does not allow herself to be spoken to in this way. If so, I hope she gets some counseling and insists that he go with her. How someone handles frustration can be a deal maker or breaker in a relationship.

Personally, if I was his fiance´, I would run.

Take Me as I Am?

I am always seeing some variation of this saying on social media. I must admit that I am not sure exactly what it means and I am not sure that this is sound "advice." I am sure that most of us long for someone who will accept everything we are. I am not sure that this is a realistic concept. 

There are things that I cannot change. I am a middle aged, Caucasian, Southern-born woman. That is cast in stone.

There are things I won't change. I won't renounce my belief in Jesus Christ. I am not going to cheat or steal for anyone. I am not voluntarily going to give up art or music. I am not going to start drinking. I am not going to stop supporting the causes I feel passionately about. I am not going to compromise myself to death. I am not going to stop smiling, laughing, and enjoying life.

However, what if there are things about ourselves that NEED changing? I have heard this expression (or variations thereof) said by alcoholic or abusive spouses many times. Or even possessive or emotionally abusive friends and family members. I have a feeling that this attitude is shared by many a lonely person. 

I am me. But, is the spirit of compromise, the ability to agree to disagree, and the ability to refrain from habits or practices that might distress friends or loved ones when I am with them, changing my inner being? I am not talking about the things I absolutely won't change, but things like knowing that my husband loathes politics and had a very low tolerance for the talking heads on any of the news channels, I choose to get my news online so he doesn't have to be bothered by it blaring through the house. I choose to find a way to compromise so that we both get essentially what we want. I don't think any of this is changing my core being.

 I don't call this changing myself. I call this respect. 

 

Communication

When I was in grad school, the second time around, one of my courses was Research. Unlike many of my classmates, I actually enjoyed that class. 

Since I have been under orders to rest my voice, I have had to get creative with ways to make myself "heard." It has almost become a mini research project to see how different people react and interact with my different forms of communication. 

I have a text to speech program that works if there is not too much background noise. It can be configured to speak at different speeds, pitches, and accents. It sounds like a GPS voice. Some friends have been able to interact with it quite nicely, while others have difficulty hearing it. The makers of this program really need to add "Southern Drawl" as a choice of accent. 

I also have Ink Artist, a program that I use to draw things out that I might want to paint. Right now, it is doing double duty as a notepad that I can write messages on, and then erase them, saving reams of paper. Some of my friends prefer this one. This is also handy for writing my order on at a restaurant, or when I need to "talk" to a doctor. 

Friends and family who know me well can pretty much follow my gestures. I was always fairly good at charades and this skill is coming in handy.  I wonder how many calories frantic gesturing burns? 

Of course, there are a couple who simply don't want to be with me until I can actually speak. That is OK, too. It takes patience to have lunch with someone who can't communicate freely. It stings a bit, but I do get it. 

I think about people I know and know of who no longer have the power of speech. Some of them are able to use technology. Some are not. I honestly cannot imagine how I would feel if this were to be forever and these things became my only voice. 

Meanwhile, if anyone wants to have lunch with me and my electronic voice, let me know.
 

 

Tea Kettle

One of the first things that my speech therapist recommended to me was to drink Vocal Coat Throat Tea. I am not much of a hot beverage drinker, but, desperate to do anything and everything to regain my voice, I promptly bought the tea. 

I have read all the horror stories of heating water in the microwave and having cups explode. It has always made me a bit nervous. Unlike Captain Picard on Star Trek: TNG, I do not have access to a replicator to instantly make my cup of tea appear. I decided to purchase my very first whistling tea kettle.

I was quite surprised to find quite a lovely selection at our local kitchen outlet. I did not think that many people used tea kettles anymore. I promptly nabbed a cute, bright green number that promised to whistle at me ensuring I don't forget that I put it on to boil. Come now! I am quite sure that I am NOT the only person who puts things on the stove and then remembers something I must do in another room!

My tea kettle is more than just a tea kettle. It is tangible evidence that I am doing all I can to regain my lost voice. 



 

Once Upon a Time

I am not a huge TV watcher. Quite frankly, there has not been that much on that I have been interested in for years. I like Downton Abbey,  Glee,  Perception, The Middle, and Who Do You Think You Are?. I watch half an hour of local news, primarily to get the weather report. I do watch college football, and pro football when Peyton is playing. I become a champion couch potato when the Olympics are on.  My guilty pleasure is Dancing With The Stars. Having been born with two left feet, I have great admiration for non dancers who are brave enough to attempt to dance on national TV.

Because my husband likes to watch old movies, I subscribed to Netflix. While scrolling through the offerings one night, I came across Once Upon a Time. I have watched almost all of the first three seasons and I admit that I am hooked. I am a sucker for great costumes, scenery, cool effects, and fairytales. I love how the series goes back and forth between Storybrook and The Enchanted Forest. 

I have to admit that I did not recognize Robert Carlyle as Rumplestiltskin/Mr. Gold. I had not seen him since he played Gaz in The Full Monty. I had no idea of the range of his talent until now. Another revelation is Jennifer Morrison. Her role as Cameron, in House, didn't fully utilize her acting abilities. Colin O'Donoghue, as Captain Hook, is new to me, but quite talented and quite easy on the eyes. 

I have heard that the fourth season "jumped the shark" somewhat, but, I am probably going to have to watch anyway. 

I'm "Hooked."

Seven Weeks

Tomorrow marks seven weeks since I have been able to sing. It feels like forever. 

I  added two days of complete vocal rest to the doctor's order. I am being conservative with my speaking voice. No talking on the phone or straining. 

I think I see a bit of improvement in my speaking voice, but progress is excruciatingly slow. I am not sure if it is real or just wishful thinking.

I know that losing my voice, perhaps permanently, is not much compared to what many people are going through. I get that. I really do. On the surface, I am trying to be positive, support my friends who are struggling, and put on a happy face. But, when I am alone, I cry. I question. I despair. There is music I can't bear to listen to. Movies I can't bear to watch. Even worship brings the pain of not being able to sing the hymns that I love so dearly. 

I see my throat doctor on Tuesday. He will take a light and illuminate my vocal cords. 

I will find out if any healing has occurred. 

Please, God, let there be healing.

Dont Judge?

I see this a lot on Facebook. I'm watching _______ (insert reality show). Don't judge me! I'm eating _______ (insert unhealthy food). Don't judge me! I'm back with my abusive ex. Don't judge me!

I try very hard not to judge people I don't know. I certainly don't believe in judging people with disabilities, people of different races, people who are overweight or underweight, of a different faith, etc. 

I think it is normal to have those first impressions. To me, this is not judging. It is just an automatic thing. Of course, I am going to notice the color of a person's skin, what he or she is wearing, etc. Does she make eye contact? Does he shake my hand? Yes, these are things I am going to notice. 

However, I see judging as refusing to see past those initial things. Assuming everyone of a certain race or religion is automatically "bad." Assuming that an overweight person eats non-stop or that every thin person has an eating disorder, etc. 

But, is being disappointed in poor manners (in someone who has been taught better), judging? Is being concerned for that friend, who went back to a man who might very well kill her, judging? Is cringing at the thought of that brittle diabetic, (who has been in a coma) eating a large sized ice cream sundae with the works, judging? Is being sad at seeing your alcoholic relative enter a bar and start drinking, judging? 

I don't really have the answers.  




  

I Want to Live!

I first watched this movie 40 years ago with my mama when it came on TV late one night. With the amazing portrayal of convicted murderer, Barbara Graham, by Susan Hayward, the wrenching scenes where appeals were denied, and finally, the excruciatingly detailed final scene in the gas chamber, this movie burned itself into my brain. 

Recently, this movie came on TCM and I saw it for the first time since I was 15. I have a very good memory for detail, but even I was surprised at how accurate my 40 year old memory was of this movie. 

I have been following the case of Kelly Gissendaner in Georgia. She has been sentenced to death for conspiring to murder her husband. A horrible crime and certainly one she must pay for. Life in prison without hope of parole, for sure.

But, this woman, while on Death Row, has become a Christian, completed a certificate of theological studies program, and has truly transformed her life. She ministers to women who will get out of prison and is an example for the transformation that they can experience if they allow it. She has helped prevent women from committing suicide in prison. It just seems like she is much more valuable to the prison if she is allowed to live, to continue ministering and mentoring, and helping others turn their lives around. 

Kelly is proof of the transforming and redemptive grace of Jesus Christ. 

Let her live. 

 

Vocal Rest

 On Thursday, my throat doctor put me on vocal rest so that my severely inflamed right vocal cord can heal. I am not to speak AT ALL until at least Tuesday. If my voice is still raspy, or my throat hurts when I speak, I am to stay silent longer. 

Thanks to texting, social media, and email, it is actually not that difficult not to speak for a relatively short time. (Quit laughing!) But, after several days, this people person feels isolated and alone.  

Silence does make doing business in "real life" a bit challenging. Imagine the initial reaction if I slid a note to my bank teller! I can't order through a drive in window or at a counter. I have been going to places where I know the staff and can write down my order. I have a fairly complicated call from a doctor's office to return that, hopefully, can wait. I am supposed to pick up a compounded prescription from a local pharmacy. But, again, I am reluctant to hand them a note. 

Yes, I have a sweet husband who will do what he can for me, but I don't like being any more dependent than absolutely necessary. However, if I have to stay silent indefinitely in order to sing again, so be it. 

For now, cyber communication will have to do. 

 

 

Who Am I?

This is a question that I have been asking myself for the past 5 weeks. Acute bronchitis has robbed me of the thing I love most to do. It has been several years since I have been unable to sing for this long. 

Perhaps too much of my identity is wrapped up in my voice. As a teenager, my identity in my group of friends was that I was the singer. Donna was the artist, Becky, the brain, etc. I was the singer.

In college there was no doubt at all what my major would be. It was music, all the way. I soon found out that, although I had talent, I did not have the competitive fire needed to be a professional singer. Competitions involved some degree of sabotage, mind games, and some pure meanness that I just couldn't stomach. 

I married, came home to Vicksburg, and used my voice in church and community theater. I sing everywhere but in the shower. I sing in the car. I sing doing chores around the house. I sing to the radio at The Mosaic Shop while putting pieces of glass together. Best of all, I get to sing every Sunday at Hermanville United Methodist Church.

Now that I have been unable to do that for the past 5 weeks, I feel so bereft. Something vital is missing. I know that I have other talents and skills, but without singing, they lose much of their luster, being part of an incomplete package.

I have an appointment with an otolaryngologist (throat specialist) tomorrow in Jackson. I am hoping and praying that whatever is continuing to be wrong with my voice will heal. At this point, I can't even wrap my mind around anything else.



 

Wiping the Cup

I can sort fast food workers into 2 categories. Those that wipe off the cup, and those who don't. As a person who stops somewhere almost daily in search of a cold beverage, I always appreciate that person who takes an extra 3 seconds to present me with a drink that doesn't get all over my hands, clothes, or car. 

I usually get my drinks at the drive-thru window, so I don't always know my server. There are a few I recognize and I try to thank them for the extra effort. I like to think that they put extra effort into other areas of their lives as well. Those that are content to hand me a sloppy cup, with the lid not all the way on and dripping, make me wonder if this lack of attention to detail spills (pardon the pun) over to other areas of their lives as well. 

Over time, I have noticed that people who do their jobs well seem to be happier than those who don't seem to care about theirs. To some extent, doing a good job seems to be its own reward. I am not downplaying the importance of a proper paycheck, but doing good work gives a personal satisfaction that cannot really be bought. 

Just wipe the cup. 

You might be glad you did. 
 

Makeup!

I remember once, not too long after I married, my husband wanted to go somewhere on the spur of the moment. For some reason, I had not yet put on my makeup that day, but I gathered my purse and headed for the door. 

My husband looked at me in disbelief. "Are you going to go without MAKEUP??" I honestly didn't think he really noticed makeup, as I did not wear a whole lot and what I wore was pretty subtle. 

I was wrong.

There was a time when men would claim to want their wives, sisters, daughters, or girlfriends not to wear makeup. They would claim that we were 'pretty enough already', 'we didn't need that stuff', etc. 

But, propose to actually go out (WITH THEM) without makeup, and it was another story. Many men want us to look natural. They just have no idea how much time, effort, and money it takes to achieve that 'natural' look! 

There are women who are so gorgeous that they honestly don't need the tiniest bit of artifice. There are women who can go without makeup and feel totally comfortable. I am not either of these women. As I get older, getting a natural look becomes harder and harder. And more and more expensive! 

I find my ideal makeup at Sephora and Ulta. 

My husband pays the bills without a word. 

And I don't leave home without it. 

 

"Shall I Bring My Skates?"

Years before the likes of Christopher Bowman, Evgeny Plushenko, and Johnny Weir, there was Toller Cranston. The six time Canadian figure skating champion, 1974 world bronze medalist and 1976 Olympic bronze medalist passed away on January 24th at the age of 65.

Toller Cranston was way ahead of his figure skating time. Although not good at compulsory figures, he absolutely lit up the ice when it came time to perform. Toller was the first man to really break the 'mold' that was men's figure skating in the 70's. With his long hair, flamboyant costumes, lean, expressive body, and amazing Russian split jumps, he won the audience, if not always the competition. 

Toller was also quite a prolific artist and managed to pay for his skating (before sponsorships were allowed) with his art. He was also a writer and the title of this blog is taken from his book "When Hell Freezes Over, Shall I Bring My Skates?

Below is a clip of Toller Cranston being Toller and doing it quite brilliantly!

Rest in Peace you amazingly talented man. I have a feeling there is ice in Heaven as well.

Toller Cranston -"The Firebird" - 1983

http://youtu.be/7cf_zI9Xo9o

George Winston

Many years ago, my husband, Bill, was given the George Winston album, 'December', by his younger sister, Becky. It did not take long for it to become one of his all time favorites. I soon fell in love with it as well.

George Winston comes to Jackson to do benefit concerts and we have tried to get to one of them several times. But, the stars and planets never aligned. Bill couldn't get off work, or one of us was ill, etc. At some point, we just sort of gave up on the idea of ever hearing the talent of George Winston in person.

Then, a few days ago, one of my Facebook friends (thanks Carey!) posted a link to an upcoming benefit concert at Duling Hall, featuring none other than...George Winston! I quickly found how when and where the tickets would be on sale. Bill's 61st birthday is coming up on January 31st. This concert is going to be his birthday gift. Much better than last year, when he spent his 60th birthday getting me out of a nursing home! The concert is actually on February 9th, but the tickets will be in his birthday card. 

If you want to attend a wonderful concert at Duling Hall in Jackson and support the Hudspeth Center go here:

http://dulinghall.com/tickets.php

And to hear his gorgeous arrangement of 'Canon in D', check this out. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5OTH3mj2Q8

Lessons Learned in 2014

2014 has been a year for lessons. Most of them have not been particularly easy to learn, but I HAVE learned. Now, the trick is to REMEMBER what I have learned, and put this knowledge into use for 2015 and beyond.

1. Hip replacements are harder to recover from than I thought.

2. I hope God takes me home before I ever have to go into a nursing home. 

3. I can't function with constant noise. 

4. I need to be much more careful where I put my time and energy. 

5. I really CAN'T please everyone.

6. I need to make more decisions with my head than with my heart.

7. I spend too much time reading articles that all say the same thing. Unsubscribing is good.

8. I have got to set even better boundaries if I am to stay mentally and physically healthy.