Head, Heart and Uterus

        I have so much to write about and its all scattered in my brain. I guess you can say, there will be no connect the dots, because there is a hurricane brewing in my head, heart and uterus.
        First on this last day of February, I will be voting tomorrow for Hillary Clinton. PERIOD! I need not defend my choice, and say horrible things about yours. To me she is over ready for this position, with decades of experience, and I trust her, as much as I trust any politician. The republican party is in a toxic heap of circus acts, and I feel very sorry for this party. I don't support the Republican Party, but that does mean that I want it to fail. End of my story, because I cannot fathom any human that could be leaning towards Trump or Cruz. However that is why we have the choice to vote, and I hope that you all vote, using your head, heart and if you have a uterus, that too!!

      The month of February has seen me in pain, and at the Physical Therapist for the entire month. She is still slowly killing me. I have been blessed with Homer's sense of humor and bad hips. The young, petite PA, has tried to put my right leg in positions that I have never done, ever! I tired to explain to her, that most people cannot put their legs over their heads, nor do squats holding a ball, walking backwards!!! She smiles and says, " I will do them with you!" I smile and say, " What else can we do angel?" She has poked and kneaded my muscles until I had to call Jesus! Spasms running up and down, with ice packs to help. I offered her some little advice, that people in my generation take meds first then we let you poke!! She is a Florida girl, so I have been sweet tea kind to her, but......its an ongoing battle.....I go tomorrow......say a pray

    Enjoyed seeing my forever friend, Susan Houser. She stays with us sometimes, when she hops through Atlanta. We talk and laugh like 16 year old girls.We share a history, our history, and we revisit every nook and crannie. When we are talked out, we pause, and start over.

    I read a couple of good books in February, while plopped on a heating pad.
    1. Between The World And Me by Ta-Nehist Coates, a must must read for all people.
    2. My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout, enjoyed it
    3. Living In The Aftermath of Tragedy by Sue Kleibold difficult, but I think people should read it.
    4. Reading now, The Japanese Lover by Isabel Allende, so far its beautiful
These are a few, that you may want to pick up. Reading, what a wonderful addiction to have.

   My favorite quote I heard or read somewhere, was Parade Worthy!!!! May your March be Parade Worthy, that is just the best saying ever!!! So let me close, the sun is out, and its calling my name.
    Remember you cannot fix crazy, but you can sure dress up for the Parade!!
    Use your Head, Heart and whatever else you need to use, to make good choices. Love yourself, pay attention and show up!!! ready
      Parade Worthy Month, that is our March plan D, because A,B, and C are iffy!!!
     

No One Gets Tired Of Loving

         The month of love is among us, and today I reflect on how easy and hard, it is to love.
To be passionately devoted or overly attached, infatuated or sick with yearning. Love is complicated, and should not cause fatigue?! But it does, love can drain the very cells out of your body, and at the same time evoke such tenderness. It really is a remarkable emotion, for the physical heart.
       I count myself to be in the category of lucky in love.
       I love so much and it comes easy, ( not spread your legs easy!) more like easy on a Sunday morning.
To adore, dote on, be fascinated by, treasure, be fond of, nuts about, delight in so many things, puts the juice in JOY!
     After the profound loss of a child, loving becomes much harder, yet somewhat simpler.
     Standing at the side of a grave of a lifelong friend, you feel the love to the core of your center.
     I do know death does not stop, when people die.
Music thrills by being, and reading is my constant companion. Husband love is such an intimate experience, to grow old with someone, with all our flaws on the table, is cherished daily. Children love, there are no words, trust me, I have looked. I am a stepmother, a birth mother and an adoptive mother, three very different kinds of love, tied together with my heart strings. I would save you from any pain, if I could, but don't test me!!! I love being a parent. I also prize being an 'Uma', with two grandsons. Now that is another kind of love, ( there are so many) it is constant, yet there is distance. Very neat to be a grandparent. My parents are here on earth with me, and remind me that getting older can be difficult, and we have to love each other through all ages of crazy!! What a powerful thing, this love of friends is, adore, admire, appreciate, the three 'As'.
    Self love is the most important, honor yourself, your special, beautiful self, and love shines.
    We are often so critical of our every move and thought! Yuck, put yourself on the Love Train, and dance!
 People occasionally ask, " Who would you take to a deserted island?" Well, that is easy, ME! who knows you better, and I hope you love yourself first, and would want to be on an island with all of yourself. Of course I would want good farm to table food, precious art, Pandora, and all my loves with me, but first on the island is me!
      Be warm, affectionate, loyal, thoughtful to you first, then you can share the wealth of your being with this wonderful world. We touch people, by loving who we are. Broken and flawed, filled with love, grateful for being so loved, and on my knees sending it your way.
   
     

I Have Lost My Mittens, and I Do Not Care

     February is sitting here with me, all gray and dreary.
     Maybe a flake of snow will surprise us, and I have lost my mittens.( could be a metaphor for my mind, but we will go with mittens??!!)
     I believe my two pair of gloves are in the pocket of one down jacket. Last week, I was a snowbird, watching my babies enjoy? skis and slopes. ( Uma watched from afar, but I had to go outside to see this feat of Olympic hopefuls) I think I had to wear gloves, how do people put up with all these layers of clothes, and you are still cold? It baffles me.
     Now I sit in February, at home, and the weather people predict the high tomorrow is 32 degrees ! WHAT!! THE FOCK ( people in Ireland and Scotland say the F curse like this, I Love it!!) FOCK, FOCK, FOCK.!
    I will not put on that coat again, or hunt for my gloves, Its February, and the groundhog is my friend, Bloody Hell ( British peeps!)
    So I continue on my reading list from January. I think I would encourage you to read them all, but one has my heart.
Trails of Broken Wings by Sejal Badani

The Sound of Gravel by Ruth Wariner

The Things We Keep by Sally Hepworth

The Art of Hearing Heartbeats ( I cant read the authors name on my kindle, you can find it!)

And the one that has my heart is When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanith

Also read ;

Boys in the Trees by Carly Simon ( I loved, but you would have to love James Taylor and their story to desire to read this) ( It sort of broke my heart, and reminded me of living in that time of such change)

Cutting For Stone by Abraham Verghese ( I loved most of this, enough to offer it to you as, good)

Now for a few reasons I will read again When Breath Becomes Air.
         Highlights
miscommunication between people can so profoundly impact their lives

gathered experience is worn down by the details of living

We are never so wise as when we live in the moment

Surely intelligence wasn't enough; moral clarity was needed as well

"I don't know. What I do know-and I know you know these things, too-is that your life is about to change." ( on hearing that this person has cancer) ( me just trying to explain, why??I don't know??)
               (you are smart!! I know my people)

Humans are organisms, subject to physical laws

How much neurological suffering would you let your child endure before saying that death is preferable?

When there is no place for the scalpel, words are the surgeon's only tool

I had met her in a space where she was a person, instead of a problem to be solved

in taking up another's cross, one must sometimes get crushed by the weight

What kind of life exists without language

I work my whole life to get to this point, and then you give me cancer

joy, a joy unknown to me in all my prior years, a joy that does not hunger for more and more but rests, satisfied

This is a beautiful story of a young doctor and his journey through cancer. It does not have a happy ending, yet teaches us so much about living. It is very much a book for all people. His wife actually finished the book for him, for he lost his battle. To find joy in the middle of pain, and loss, is just so beautiful. I wish for no one to be tested so harshly, by any disease or loss. I am forever grateful, that those that are tested, write and leave behind their story, to aid all of us on our life journey.
       So on this day, may you find time to read, reflect  and rest satisfied. 
       I may never find my mittens, and that is OK

Hang Onto Your Hanky

     Its storming outside my window, so I come to write.
     January continues to dim my light, so I write and write some more!
     Or..look for my iron?

     This week, a box of horrible smokey handkerchiefs, lifted my spirits and my imagination
     My sweet Mary Heyward ( mom) gave me a box of hankies from a dear friend of hers, who had recently died. Not everyone, would have accepted these so cheerfully, but I knew there must be a story, who has a box of over two hundred hankies? Mom has, over the years, placed into my hands some jewels.( my brothers never want anything!) So often, I say yes, and don't truly know until I get home and explore the contents my treasure. Not all do I keep, but mom knows, that once it comes to me, I will either give it away, or find a special place in my home and heart for the stuff of stories.

   OK, back to my iron...I did not even know I had one, and when I found it, was excited to find it was new and never used ( that part was not a surprise) The hankies stunk to high heaven, and I washed them like a newborn baby. I was sure they would dissolve, these things were old. You see, Mrs. Pickering,my mothers friend, died at 99. She had no children, and at some time, I think, thought my mom was her child. I remember going to her house, near the paper mill, for my mom to take her things. Cakes, Pies, Cookies, just stick her head in to say "Hello" and we Blackman children usually were in tow. None of us wanted to go there, except maybe me, I liked to see there living quarters! I could not imagine a house with no children, and it always fascinated me, that there were people that their houses were quiet. Noreina was her first name, and her husband were friends of my mom for a LONG time. Mrs. Pickering worked at the Middle School, Oceanway, for forever!!! she was the guidance counselor, I thought she was the Assistant Principal, mom corrected me this morning. I use to like to see Mrs. Pickering's clothes, beautiful suits and high heels, daily. Her hair was tight and coiffed, never moved, she was a pint size force. I was a little scared of her. She was not gentle or soft spoken, and that would cause me to shrink a little, and take notes also. She was strong and vulnerable, and as my dad would say, " She is a pistol"

   I know, I left the iron on! Well, when the hankies were washed in four, very small loads, and dried on baby gentle, I began to iron them in groups, and with each one, I  threw on the table, ( You don' t think I put up an ironing board??) I had to look and examine and take photos to send to my mama, and think, " How did you get all of these handkerchiefs, Mrs. P?" ( I think I may have spelled some hankerchiefs !!that is how it sounds coming out of my mouth, and I may or may not correct it!!)
  When mom told me about the kerchiefs, she asked me if I knew that Mrs. Pickering was a Prima Ballerina?
 I did not, she was extremely tiny, but I could see it. Worked at being a good ballerina for a long time, and had an opportunity to be in a company but her mother said, "No."
  The mother wanted her to become a teacher, have something to fall back on, being a ballerina was a hobby, not an occupation, to people living in the depression. They were probably proud, that she was smart, and somehow they could scrap up the money to send her to college. So Mrs. P's dream, life long dream, was shattered.  I saw pictures of her, in her home, looking like an angel. I think ballerinas are the most beautiful creatures in art. Oh what these handkerchiefs could tell us? All I know for sure is that she had a zillion of them, and kept them for 99 years!even in a nursing home, pretty amazing. I wish I had a picture of her doing "Swan Lake", maybe I will find it at some antique store one day. She really was pretty amazing, and my mom's friend, that I sort of shared all of these years.
    I still have all the white ones to iron, maybe today? Thank you Mrs. Pickering? For still being a part of my life, and who knows where these handkerchiefs may go? I just promise you they will find good homes, and know your story.
  This story is from my memory, with mom helping me. I left out some parts about her husband because, well that was her story to tell. I can say that she is a survivor in so many ways, and leave it at that.
  Strong women, I salute you.

Just Write

    Each winter, I work very hard to dig myself out of Alice's hole. I think it is a combination of things, and I have learned how to come to my rescue. Painting, reading and writing, and upping the meds! Cold weather is The Devil, and The Mad Hatter sits very near me! I just do not like January, there I said it! I think if I went from December to February, it would be much different. Who knows, but hope reigns. February is near, so today, love is in the air.
   My love of David Bowie is remembered this day. He has continued on a different journey, and promised us it would never be boring. Thrilled to have seen him, and appreciated his unique being on this planet. ( Normally this may have taken me to the bed, but its almost February! Iam good!)
  Made several doctors appointments for February and March, and just writing dates and times, in those months, put a little twerk in my step. ( Thank you MP for my Outlander calendar, I tear off the good day pictures and keep them in my purse! A girl never knows when she needs to see The Laird of Lollybroch!)
  I had no blog in mind, but I wanted to write, so I remembered this book that my son Hart and DIL Nicole gave me for Christmas. 642 Things To Write About by San Francisco Writers Grotto. It is a must book for all people. Hidden Potential, you never know what can happen in a single day, write something. Can we direct our story or does the story direct us, something to think about. I feel lucky to live my life, so full of stories, seldom do I need a prompt, but I sure like one when I see it! and it stokes my fire.

 I will just copy some of the writing prompts for you to ponder, remember there are 642!

What can happen in a second...

The smell of a place that you love..

The last time you changed your mind about something important..

Your worst experience in gym class...

Five things you see out the nearest window...

A physical description of an eccentric relative....

Wisdom you learned from your child...

A beginners guide to getting up in the morning...

What is public and private? What do these terms mean now?

Five years from now, what will you be worrying about....

A scene that takes place in extreme heat...

The snappy reply you never were able to make.....

Ode to an onion.....

Make up a new Peanuts character...

The lists, ideas are amazing, thought provoking, fun and scary. 642 different things to write about, and some are a whole page, and others a small little box for you to fill. Some may require one word or an epistle, after all you are the writer. Its your story, your journey, your song....
                                        Just Write.....

Not Brilliant

  When in London, things seem to always be, "Brilliant."
   Normally I embrace all slang in languages, but some things are not Brilliant!
   ( Yet my year of 'light' has me even using words that refer to light!, the universe is Brilliant!"
   ( I am sitting at the computer this January in a shawl, with my tiny hands sticking out, freezing and looking like a granny!) ( Just some added info)
  
        One early morning this week, I was just starting to drink my coffee, when the conversation needed a response from me. (Usually I can go longer without a word)
         Bill-"Did you know there is a new app, or button ( I forgot what he called it) that stores and moves things, in the right upper corner of your IPAD?" ( I honestly don't know what he said)
         me- " I want no more extra clicks!"
         Bill- " This is easy, this could be good, giga, gaga, cloud???" ( This is what I was hearing)
                                                   Bonnie's Dictionary
                            Click, clicks, clicker- verb or noun

                                                            1. anything that requires me to know where it is or what it looks like.
                                                            2. sometimes referred to as a button.
                                                            3. if you push it, scary things can happen
Any more new, extra clicks or swipes, is not Brilliant! I bloody well don't want it!
( Please know as I was handwriting this blog, my Bob Newhart aka Dr. Bill is still talking to me)
         Bill-"but you can save"....(Its 6:05 in the morning)
         me-" Did you call it an 'arrow'? I don't want to save!" ( I get up to get another cup of coffee, he doesn't know I have left the room)
         me-" Can you hand me the clicker(TV), I can not listen to anything on the news without bile coming up in my throat. I need music and Fred Astaire in the am, it's important to start your day off right.
        I thanked Bill for my blog, and he said, "always" which means, " I don't know what you are saying, or Brilliant, anytime!"
       My new year of 'light' reminds me, that I don't really care about a cloud, or an arrow, or copy and paste. However I do love technology, and typing, Kindles, Computers, Ipads, Iphones, ( Are they called those things??) so I do have to listen more carefully, to my mornings with Bill. Just maybe right now, I can have a click free morning of no lessons. Brilliant!! I love that word. No more new clicks for me!!!! This year, I can tell, is off to an amazing start.
        Cheerio!
    

                                                              

#BeOtherwise

   I saw this hashtag during the holidays, that said my age group of people will go down fighting,
                                             #BeOtherwise
   Instead of giving old age the free reign of destruction, we have decided to do otherwise. Or in staying with my title, Be Otherwise! ( I truly don't get hashtags, but I like them, sooo there you go!)
   Your teeth, eyesight and bones, are the first to want to jump ship, but we have a gazillion doctors and dentists for that. We have wrinkle creams, that breed like rabbits, to take a line or two away. Botox and fillers, can be your friend, but you may lose a kidney to pay for it. We have so many options, choices, decisions to make.
   We stay current, and are well read. ( I think we may be the last generation to read, #sad) ( Is that how you use hashtags?)( or is it more like #sadchildrenwhowillneverbedoctors) ( lord, this is fun, I see an entire hashtag blog coming soon!) We are educated and awesome, may have some substance abuse problems, but remember we have doctors!
   We have kept moving, I hope, in body and spirit. We have questioned everyone and have high expectations. We have liberal hearts, and if you don't??#somethingwentwrongwithyourDNA. Peace, Love and Harmony are in all of us, some deeper down then others.
    We were on the cusp of this technology that has taken us to all kinds of crazy, love it and hate it, at the same time. ( #verygoodmultitaskersarewe)

    As I take down the Christmas decorations, and think about the New Year, I feel so thankful to be a Baby Boomer! To have seen so much, and know that my voice counts, is fantastic. To follow The Yellow Brick Road and The Yellow Submarine to all corners of the world, growing and learning.
   To have my children turn out to be seriously the best people I have ever known, is just wonderful.
   They touch my heart, often, all those sleepless nights pay off! If you can make it through the hard stuff, and you can!
   This year is going to be my year of light! I like to have themes, to keep me focused.(#bornandraisedinFLoridaneedIsaymore)
    I wish you all a Happy New Year(not sure what year it will be, I will have to look it up, retirement!)
    Hope you have many Baby Boomers in your life, that are born givers and teachers, listen to their stories, we are very interesting people.(yes we have huge flaws!!we will tell you about them! Learn from us!)
    Celebrate each day, graciously looking for something positive, its not so easy, but oh so worth it.
    Vote with your head and your heart, don't try and separate the two. #Itstimeforawomanpresidentperiod!
    I guess I should go back to taking down Christmas, it is like putting away a friend.
    Happy New Year

please note all photos are off the internet, my undoing Christmas is not for the faint of heart