Why the Garbage and Litter people?

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...

Civic Dr. in Gresham, Oregon
 

 This is symptomatic of a growing problem I see everywhere and hate. Our beautiful scenery despoiled constantly by garbage and litter.

I had just gotten off the light rail MAX train this particular evening following a mother and her two children and watched her throw the farthest away white sack out into this field right in front of her children as if it was the proper place to dispose of the garbage. As if it was the proper thing to be teaching her children. As if she wasn't two steps from crossing the street and half a block from a garbage can where it could have been thrown away correctly. And I could do nothing. I and my walker This is shared space of us all and they are trashing MY living space and it PISSES ME OFF!

I'd really like to see a few more littering tickets written and the laws enforced. Maybe then some of these people would get the point that their careless disregard for their environment is sickening and they are polluting the world that others have to live in.

From a pissed off goddess on a soapbox....climbing down...

Rediscovering Musicians

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...

It's strange after a twenty plus year hiatus from most music because I couldn't stand the added pain to actually be able to enjoy listening to some music occasionally again. My soon to be ex-husband was a sweetheart and gave me his old ipod for my last birthday and I've been working to fill it up to listen to it during the walks I take. Smartphones just burn through battery power too fast IMO when you are also listening to music. But even when I rip the CD's I've got the stupid iTunes doesn't recognize them as music. Got to figure it out. But I am realizing that some of my favorite musicians didn't stop making music when I could no longer listen, and didn't start when I first heard of them. Like this one. Rick Springfield. LOL Some of you think he's just a heart throb. He's actually a singer, songwriter and composer as well as being an actor. And the guy plays several instruments. The Ballad of Annie Goodbody is off of his first solo album in the US (he's Australian) and I've discovered I really like it.

from a rockin' goddess

Hazards of the Walk

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...you'd think when they put in access for handicapped people they'd have disabled people help design them.

The bumpy yellow strip used on these types of ramps for traction are slick under your feet in rain, ice and snow and painful to cross for me with arthritis in my back, knees and arms on a scooter or walker. I expect to be in pain going across a railroad track, and avoid as many as I can, these they've set up so I can't avoid!

This type of  ramp however, that is actually made as part of the sidewalk causes no pain when I go over it and yet still gives me traction. The cobblestones are nasty, but that's another story! LOL

 

And worst of all...in the Lloyd District where they are trying to be hip, trendy, cool, and who knows what else....

In this light, the depression is visible. But TWICE I have managed to walk straight off the curb because it wasn't a clearly marked ramp and they were in an unexpected place. Both times were in broad daylight. It doesn't help that I have macro degeneration and can't see well. But if I can do it and end up tearing my meniscus in my knee on my walker because I fell straight on it IN BROAD DAYLIGHT at 9 AM!!! then other people can as well. I then did it a few streets over a couple weeks later. sigh.... I now know to be extra careful to look out for the d@mn fricken ramps because their beautification is more important than safety. But it's definitely the pits to remember.  Don't get me started on sloped sidewalks because of driveways, or just because whoever put them in was an @ssh@t and cracked concrete and asphalt I'm expected to navigate over and sections of sidewalk that are raised that I'm somehow magically supposed to levitate to get up on, or better yet, streets that have none at all?
 Or the streetlights near my MAX stop that are always out and since they are the new directional lighting they darken the entire block and make me feel totally unsafe to come home in the winter after 6pm.

Yeah, that makes you feel really safe when you give up driving because of your disability and how unsafe you really are on the road and how bad your macular degeneration is? NOT. I'm really happy that transit is here and available and accessible, and I know that people who pay full price get kind of pissed of at the disabled because they have to wait for ramps and give up seats and get squished by walkers and move out of the way and wait on doors so the ramps will come down, but I CAN'T drive a car right now. I have NO CHOICE. Transit or walk. If I move I need my walker and it takes some room. Yes I paid my taxes and I'm sorry it slows you down but I can't bike it. I would if I could. I had a mobility chair and quite frankly, this is healthier for me and uses less room on transit. :D So the next time you get impatient, remember that you are probably very much ABLE to drive, the person in those seats may not, probably isn't able to.

 

From a frustrated goddess on a walker...

Tie me Up, Tie me Down, Tie me all Around...

Wikimedia CSD 2

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...I was starting to read an erotica novel last night, or was it the night before? Anyway...(Oh come on you didn't think the interwebs invented porn do you? Libraries were there long before that! And still have great collections! And streaming that shit is SO much easier now. LOL) So anyway, to explain, erotica is kinda like romance novels but kinkier. In a romance, two people get together and work out the kinks in their relationship and deal with some of their baggage. In romantica, two, but maybe more or less or other deal with the kinkier in their relationship(s) and create baggage for unsuspecting readers who may need mind bleach before finishing a paragraph or two. All kidding aside there are as many types of sex and gratification as there are people. Most of the time I can flip merrily on my way and not really be bothered too much by stuff that just doesn't particularly play for me. I'm old enough that I figure what consenting adults agree to consent to do is their own business. I don't like abuse, bullies, or hypocrites and that's where quite a few of my objections come into play in the real world.


But reading about stuff? I generally have pretty strong stomach.


which is why I couldn't understand my reaction to reading about a Master/slave commitment ceremony in the BDSM world. But I'm figuring based on some other work I'm trying to do lately with facing my fears that the gut clenching knots of terror are directly tied to my childhood trauma of being abused and the PTSD I've had since. I found it strange that I wouldn't even have noticed the fear response if I hadn't been reading, a book by Ana T. Forrest called, "Fierce Medicine." Forrest was the originator of Forrest yoga and strongly believes in facing fears and confronting them in order to control our reactions to them and tome down the stress they leave our bodies under.
I can totally understand the value in this. She suggests keeping a few journal with steps you've taken to combat the few and to isolate the causes. Since this is a first realization for me. I've got to figure out if the root of my terror is really what I suspect and how I'll go about desensitizing myself to it. Maybe I'll read the book instead of throwing the thing and my phone into wall at least.
from a puzzled goddess...terrified of nothing but words on a page...

Organizing for a day

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...I finally got disgusted with digging through the drawer multiple times and not being able to find what I was looking for. You know the way it goes. You have one drawer that has several types of things in it so you always have to dig through it to find what you want.


So this entire  basket of clothing came out of a 4" deep drawer. That started out started out impossible to find anything

 With a few tools.

 Some cardboard and a little bit of time. About a half hour/s worth and no impact on my budget. I organized the snot out of it and ended up with this.


My kick ass new drawer!         From the Goddess of Organized shit you should all envy!

Catz Daze

This is Aria. She likes to be under the covers. And when she's not, she likes to attack feet!

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me..

But woe betide any human subject who wakes her furry butt up!

or not...some are just curious...

But Aria has one MAJOR kitty trait...

and can't help looking into the well, or laundry machine as it were to see if Lassie might have fallen in.

She just HAS to sniff out any possible place a D.O.G. might be.

And her human sister has one very Human trait....throw the cat down the well...

And some get pushed in by a helpful sibling who just can't resist....

HELLO? Any Doggies down here?

until Mom has pity on them and lets their poor, beleaguered, neurotic furry butts free.

 And you thought helping someone recover from surgery was all fun and games,  huh? Work I tell you, it's all work!
from the goddess of puzzling kitties....

The White Man's Burden....a conversation

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...okay, this was a phrase I had heard all of my life and kind of glossed over, "The White Man's Burden." I didn't even know where it came from. Then I had a conversation with my immensely intelligent daughter who is majoring in history and discovered it was from a Rudyard Kipling poem, written to defend Eugenics and the Euro-centric beliefs spreading at the time that the "white man" or read "western man" were somehow superior to everyone else in the world and it was our duty through imperialism to guide and shepherd other races to civilization (in our image of Industrialism and Christianity). The poem was written in the era of 1897-99, originally for Queen Victoria's Jubilee, but then replaced and reworked and written to support the U.S. conquest of the Philippine Archipelago from Spain.

I couldn't help injecting a whole load of irony, satire and sarcasm in every word of it when I read it. The plain text of it was just that strange to my modern, indoctrinated, and PC, way of thought. Plus the ignorance of disregarding civilizations that had far outstripped the complexity and sophistication of Victorian England in Ur, Central Africa, Egypt, and Middle and South America in previous centuries just because they weren't "industrialized" or "Christian" necessarily and polluting our planet to the point of unlivability for the rest of the world's inhabitants to thrive seems specious.

Reading this made me draw some very unhappy parallels with some of our extreme politicians over the last 8 years like Michele Bachmann and others who can't seem to keep their race hatred out of their comments about politics. I hate negative campaigns. Discuss the issues. Discuss inflammatory statements or stupid statements or dumb things the person or official has said or done as AN OFFICIAL or that are ILLEGAL. I don't like hate on religion. I don't care about consensual sex. CONSENSUAL being the word. If you are paying an aid, not consensual in my book. You are pandering. But I don't care what color your skin is, or what team you bat for, or how many people you are married to. if you are the President you have my respect. I took an oath and I never rescinded it. Sometimes that kind of worries me when I look at the people running...what ever happened to the Greek Golden Mean in Western thought, and Do Unto Your Neighbor? The Bible sure never said neighbors were all white. The Queen of Sheba certainly wasn't. None of the tribes of Isreal were. JESUS CHRIST wasn't! He was Middle Eastern, Duh! So was Allah. Gee! What happened to harm none? That's a good one to follow.

from a goddess who remains a very puzzled and a determined TRUE moderate on most issues...

Mint tea for me...

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...
After sleeve bariatric surgery I was told to stop drinking carbonated beverages, and no caffeine. with the migraines I don't really drink caffeine anyway, but the carbonation was a BIG change. I used to never be seen without a diet pepsi in my hand. Then a diet Shasta when I realized how sensitive I was to aspartame. I now drink adult cool aid otherwise termed tisane, or herbal tea.

For a general, all around beverage that's cold, I normally drink some kind of mint infusion.
Here's what I think of the ones I've sampled.

Of the straight Peppermint teas I've tried the very cheap from the Dollar store which has almost nothing in the tea bags and costs as much as the Stash tea to buying my own loose organically grown peppermint leaves that I grind in a coffee mill. I like a smooth, light taste of peppermint that isn't overpowering that is sweetened quite a bit so I prefer the Stash peppermint. I don't know where they get their leaves, or what they do to them, but they are smooth and not harsh and nasty. The Bigelow tea peppermint has a harsh and heavy peppermint oil taste so it may be that their leaves are fresher, but I don't consider that a taste advantage in this situation.                                                                 

This Stash Moroccan Mint is one of my favorite teas. But it has green tea in it, and so it contains caffeine. I'm not allowed to indulge often. When I use this one bag is used in an entire pot so I don't overdo the caffeine allotment for the day. 

 The Bigelow Thin Mints tea is pretty good. It smells like a chocolate mint plant I had a few years ago until my black thumb killed it.  But this tea really only tastes good when it's hot. When it's cold it tastes like pretty nasty watery candy.

 

This Bigelow Plantation Mint is one of my all time favorite teas. I LOVE spearmint. unfortunately

 

this also has caffeine  in it so I can't really drink it anymore. I grind up spearmint leaves as well and that tastes good. The spearmint is less overpowering than the peppermint and so this tea is wonderful.
















The Mint Medley is a nice blend of Spearmint and Peppermint. Once again, if they used the peppermint Stash uses, the tea would be better.

From the goddess trying to keep cool with mint...

One of my favorite restaurants...

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...I know it's silly to think so much of a fast food place, but this one...I just like the way they put the landscaping in, and they serve a Sobe I can drink that's not carbonated that I mix with their tea.

It's located out near where Powell Blvd meets Burnside Rd in Gresham. The few buses that go to this area only run intermittently and stop early so it's easy to get stranded without a way to head back west for those of us who can't drive. The Panda Express that is much closer to me just doesn't have the same ambiance and doesn't carry the Sobe. So it's not the same.

I like eating their kid's meal, with string bean chicken and steamed vegetables. They actually serve more vegetables than a few pieces of broccoli, carrots and cabbage. I wish some of their other entrees had an option to get sauce on the side or came without breading. I really dislike breaded meat smothered in a sweet sauce. All it does is up the calories for no real taste addition. Just slime. Uck. But the Kung Pao is okay as well.

I really stop here more because it's restful and I like the way it looks and feels...so sue me!

from a puzzled goddess scarfing fast food Chinese...num...

Things my Father taught me...

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...going introspective as I and my daughter visited my parents' graves last month. I try to make it a habit to visit their graves at Willamete National Cemetery on my Dad's birthday so it's a happy memory, not a sad anniversary, like a death anniversary. I want to think of them as they were while alive.

I got thinking about the eulogy I gave for my dad at his funeral. Up until the last minute I wasn't sure I was going to but it just felt right. Dad's world had narrowed so much in his last years as his health failed and he wasn't working. He seemed to retreat more toward the past and family became ever more important to him, and I've come to understand that. The family I love and the things I had left undone for them became much more important to me after I had a heart attack scare a few years ago. I now know that my dad was told that he had a limited time to live because he had congestive heart failure and was trying to set things up so that my mom would be in good shape to be covered and okay. He always cared for her in his quiet way.

But back to the eulogy...the one huge lesson I remember from my dad is that you can learn just about anything you want to do from a book. And he put that into practice most of his life. He never let the fact that he didn't know something stop him from trying to do it. It was just one more challenge he hadn't learned about. I think some of that attitude came from his life's career (and one of mine) which was as a computer systems analyst. Which, if you are a good one, means that you intimately understand all the processes around the computerized systems you are bringing into being so that you can streamline them, design the correct supporting data structures and implement the training necessary for all people who are impacted by the system. To do this you have to have a deep understanding of the business process you are automating. Books can definitely come into play in this process. My father in fact possessed a business degree, as do I. His was in Management I believe, and he had certificates as a Data Wiring Operator (early computer programmer), and Systems Analyst well before colleges or universities offered the degrees as well as classes in COBOL, FORTRAN and a few other languages like me. My degree is in Project Management (probably following in Dad's footsteps...we were both Aries! And I wrote code in even more computer languages than he did. LOL and ended up a Systems Analyst and Computer Network Project Manager.) My Dad had also worked as a Draftsman and worked on a graduate degree in Engineering which he had never had the time to finish with his growing family.

But my Dad also was in the Air Force during the Korean War as part of the DEW line as a control tower officer and pilot. And when he got out he built a mobile home for he and my mother, and my older brother and sister, from scratch. Then a site built home...by reading about the codes and looking at blueprints and doing the wiring and the plumbing and the metal work and the rest of it pretty much by himself, or with his wife and kids help. As one of his kids I can attest to it. He had an almost endless belief in his power to learn anything, and he could. He passed that on. Before I entered high school I sweated pipes and soldered them and wired the electrical in our house and helped put up the sheetrock and do the taping, did the rebar and helped pour the cement, placed pier blocks and did rough and finish framing. The only thing I never did was lay carpet. (Thank you, God!)

 I really hope I've passed on this same type of belief to my children. I think I have. Because when something new comes up as a question that needs to be solved or done they don't necessarily turn to a book, or Mom or Dad, but the computer comes out, the internet is fired up...google is queried and youtube's brain is sucked dry. And low and behold the answer is found and the project is accomplished! So Thank You Daddy, we love you still and we appreciate your legacy!

from the puzzled  goddess of knowledge....

The lovely month of May...

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...
it's that time of year, even bunnies are out to play. I saw one on my way to the MAX the other day and had to stop and snap his mug shot. Yeah, it was a really cheesy thing to do, but come on, I live in the city. How often do you see little bunny foo foo hopping out of the forest? I mean I live in the third largest city in Oregon. I was seriously looking around for the good fairy and his magic wand. No joy.

But dreams of hossenpfeffer and grilled thumper thighs followed me to bed that night. Num. He just hopped faster than I could deploy my mad skills with the folding cane and walker. Drat it!

But we've had some beautiful Oregon Spring days.

Like this one from the first of the month when I went to pick up my prescriptions 2 miles away and it was sunny, but it hailed back near where I live. That's Spring in Oregon for you. But the sun has been visiting, making us all think that we might have some warm days this year, even the flowers are approving.

I'm seeing more and more on my walks around the neighborhood. The vacant lot has nice wild weeds and the townhouses next door have lovely gardens. My own apartments are kind of blah though. But I can deal with it since I would much rather look at the pretty flowers than smell them coming in my air conditioner all the time.

These perennials are a lovely addition every year.

And these blue flowers form hedges that are waist high.

Who doesn't like Roses?

As for the last few days? It's been raining..

.It is Spring in Oregon after all....from the puzzled goddess of nature



In any color?



Flavor rant...keep your chemicals...

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...
I remember hearing about a post on a blog or a story on the TV news or in the press when Starbucks made the decision to use Strawberries to color their cold drinks instead of red dye no. 40 or whatever.  It is that dye that is in everything you seem to buy with the least tint of red in it. And I thought it was ridiculous it was even a story. Starbucks should have always been doing this.

It must have been a slow news day. Somebody's cat up a tree and miraculously finding its way down on its own was a better story. But the press gave lots of time and room to...this.

     But hey, it's not as if you CAN buy natural food, made the way it should be grown. In the best way for the plant and for the human consuming it unless you make a special point of buying organic and have everything specially handled. It's amazing to me that you pay a premium to have nasty shit kept OUT of your food. Gee, I don't want you to put anything I can't spell or pronounce into my food, and Oh, here I need to pay 200% more for you to do it?! It has NEVER made sense to me. But then our food supplies wouldn't survive a nuclear holocaust and my Mother's pantry wouldn't have had food in it that was 2 or 3 years past its expiration date. Someday the cockroaches will love us, after they learn how to chew through the tin cans.

I know I'd be much happier in my life if the chemical garbage that polluted my food hadn't polluted my body as well. my theory is that those chemicals don't all leave as waste products, because that would be too clean...and just wouldn't really fit in with the chemistry in our innards. Think about the fake cheese popcorn chemical coating. If you haven't heard the story, it's why I won't eat the stuff anymore. I got an excessive craving for it the day after I brought my newborn son home from the hospital 20 some years ago as I and his father were headed to a family Thanksgiving celebration. Two days later I discovered why this wasn't a good idea. It was just wrong. What came out of the baby. I was breastfeeding. Smelled and had the SAME COLOR as the cheese popcorn coating. It was truly disgusting. This set of chemicals had gone through TWO digestive tracks and stayed together. Wow. But that to me is more reassuring than the stuff in our food that DOESN'T.

That's the stuff I worry about and wonder what it's doing in my body. What cells is that garbage changing? What inadvertent effects is it having on my brain or central nervous system chemistry? How long is it being stored in my fat or muscle tissue? In my liver? Is it all being released in a flood when I diet? With some of the effects I've noticed just watching as people slimmed down, and the difference in a few generations between what was considered a "healthy" diet and what wasn't, I'm pretty sure that no matter the number of vegetables you eat nowadays and good grains, if they aren't fresh, non-GMO, and organic, your diet is probably worse than your great grandmother's...and she probably went to bed hungry a whole lot more often then you do.
from a pissed off goddess with poison in her food supply...

Clusters and others and the menopausal migraineur meets the puzzled goddess

 Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...

Fugue state is an old term for that time in the migraine cycle that you are hyper aware that a migraine will happen, expect it, dread it if you want the truth, but can't look away any more than you can at a train wreck.

Well....that's if you're a migraineur who gets "classic" migraine as I used to. Before 30 and pregnancy, estrogen, progesterone, and now testosterone all have influenced various conditions and turned classic to cluster. (I've been wondering tongue in cheek for the last twenty two years if this wasn't just a cluster f@ck of a diagnosis on people's lives. And knew it was my black humor and early bent toward the military coming through.)


I've been doing a great deal more research myself lately since large studies are finally being done, and I'm becoming involved in chronic pain advocacy, because, this is my life. There isn't any changing it now. My new normal has been here and holding out dreams for magic pills is just getting in the way. So all health topics will pretty much be moving to my new blog The Menopausal Migraineur .

And yes, I do look like a vampire in the middle of a bad attack. LOL just HAD to prove it. This is even after a sunburn and hives.

from the puzzled goddess going to do her relaxation exercises. . .

I don't have any close friends anymore, but I somehow always have conversation...

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...I meet the most interesting people on the transit system, but then, I find people fascinating. I almost feel like I'm having too much fun when I commute, that it should be more of a hardship, like for my early twenties son.

 I feel so sorry for him. He invariably gets these half, (or totally) potted older women who stink to high heaven of booze, body odor, cigarettes and gods know what else that INSIST on sitting in seats next to him. And then edge closer and closer pushing their elbows and more of their bodies into him as the ride goes on. Anyone who knows him knows he's REALLY fastidious about his personal appearance and cleanliness, and then he gets the same migraines from toxic volatile chemicals as I do...and having someone shove it constantly under your nose...UcK!

But he and his sister are probably right that if he said something, being a white male in his 20's, a member of the "privileged class," that a whole scene would be started, and he would NOT come out of it well. I don't really understand why it should be so different. Though I do know it will.

 I can watch it play out in my head like one of those TV shows about moral choices and watch the strangers react badly to him when he is the wronged party.

It's taking liberalism and Political Correctness too far. Don't Get ME WRONG!
 I AM THE POSTER CHILD FOR PC AND LIBERALISM.
BUT NOT. I REPEAT. NOT---
WHEN IT VIOLATES COMMON SENSE!
And that is where that pendulum is starting to swing, both ways--- liberal and conservative, both are violating common sense and common decency, compassion and empathy for their fellow human beings.

I didn't mean to start this to lecture, just to update on how many interesting conversations I can have on the transit system going to appointments now that I had to get rid of my car.

A good friend of mine from college, Rory A. Miller, who writes the Chiron Training blog, as well as many excellent books on the subjects of martial arts and responding to violence, used to tell stories about riding the Trimet buses over school breaks and living homeless on Portland streets, and he'd make all of us see the humor in the situations that really weren't that humorous at all. But he has a special way of looking at things. I remember his slightly warped view of life as I look at my new world through my cloudy-mist eyes and talk to the people in it.

I met an older black woman who was so stylish she put me to instant shame. The turban was a kicken' 1930's look and the raccoon long coat draped over her shoulders set off her black pantsuit and leather alligator shoes. It all looked vintage. But vintage with style and flair. When I complemented her outfit we hit it off immediately, and we got to talking about our lives and her loves and her man that was still coming around looking for, "somethin', somethin'. You know how those men are. He cheated on me, but it may be worth it just to sample it again before I kick it out. Opportunities don't come by so often anymore at our age." We laughed so long before she got off the streetcar... We were like young girls being naughty in the corner and embarrassing the poor boy sitting across the aisle. I then, of course, being totally oblivious to his blushes got off at my stop 5 minutes later with my walker and a small chuckle. Bet he never makes the mistake of thinking old ladies don't giggle over old men. LOL


And then there was the young man in his late twenties or thirties buried in a book talking about sailing around the world. He thought it would be amazing to build a boat and do it. I could see the spark in his eyes. Maybe a Thor Heyerdaul, who knows?

There were the Water Engineers from England, the World Championship for track and field? I believe, where I was at the correct time to meet the families of the Australians, Germans, and some of the English, and the young Spanish émigré who thought Portland was the most accepting place she had ever lived though she laughed and said she would remember my description of being, "self consciously weird." That it fit quite a few of the Portlander's she had met...others just reveled in their weirdness. lol

I thought I would read many more books while riding transit, and I do keep a book or two with me. But far and above more interesting are the people and their stories and their lives.

....reflections of a puzzled goddess...

Divorcing the Disease...

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...
It's been a long time, some of you have heard the news from family members, though I've talked to very few people about it...these last months since Spring 2013 have been painful and traumatic and hurt filled for the whole family. The title here isn't a clever play on words, after over 22 years of marriage and raising two beautiful children, my husband and I are going our separate ways and have been working through separation and are in the process of divorce.


     Don't get me wrong in thinking I blame my various inherited disabilities and the associated levels of grinding pain  I'm living in to have been the sole, or maybe not even the main cause of our divorce. I seriously offered my husband a divorce for the first time when I realized just how far our lives would be from anything either of us had planned, and just how grim it was going to get to live with someone who was in constant agony, as if a dentist's drill were going  after 1 quadrant of their head 24 hours every day with no let up, while the ground glass feeling in all the joints on my extremities that had been my version of fibromyalgia and flaring was flared at the same time. It was pretty horrendous. If I didn't have a throbbing piercing pain stabbing from my eye back through my head in tune with my heartbeat like an ice pick was being hammered through my eye, I was feeling the back pain from multiple sports injuries or the grinding glass over raw hamburger torture that assaulted my ankles, knees, shoulders, elbows, and wrists. Rick and I didn't have to be told about gateway pain, we lived it. And I never lived very far from my syringes of migraine relief, message, and acupuncture in those first years after I had my kids and sent my body chemistry and our lives into purgatory.

  Rick and I both believed and believe in marriage though. 22 years is a statement in that. He was my best friend for all of those years and my biggest cheer leader, the person who supported me the most. He was also one of the people who needed the most from me that no matter how much I gave always needed more to feel loved. And for someone, me, who was lucky if I had three hours in a day that I could spend outside my bed, or the atmosphere of my home which I'm accustomed to, a husband needing reassurance that he's loved, children needing the same, a house needing to be at a level of clean that doesn't make my now additional lifelong medical conditions worse, and trying to squeeze out any alone time in the midst of all this didn't happen. I was being run into the ground further physically and emotionally. My doctors' had all hoped that menopause would make things better. It didn't.

The doctors just let me go back to medicines that had worked for a while in the past until my body builds up a tolerance. It's a pretty common thing to do, especially for preventative medicines. You hope you can come around in a few years and use them again when the tolerance might be down. I could. I got lucky.

Then I found out that time marches on. Arthritis has taken hold pretty strongly in my back and hands, where it used to just be muscle and tendon damage from old injuries and fibromyalgia...my thyroid which had been chemically burned out when I was younger and had Grave's Disease to protect my heart, was now under attack by my immune system, and I had to face that the auto immune's like my mother had died of, must run in families, like all the rest of it. Then the immune system went for my eye...those who follow this know that months of retinal cysts and inflammation finally led to a replacement lens and eye sight not quite up to par. I've been told that it will be 18 months at the outside before the lens in the other eye will need replacement.

All of this, here, now, takes so much energy. I hardly have energy to spare to not be selfish. It's taken me almost two years, and I'm still not quite all moved in and set up to live independently without one of my conditions kicking off and causing major problems. Everything has to be arranged just so. I can't even smell other peoples' perfume or dryer sheets without it setting me back for days. I wish I had a bubble to live in sometimes.

Marriages take two people working to make them thrive. Rick and I communicated, but we stopped being able to be or give the other what they needed. For some weird reason my kids keep trying to make me a saint in all this. I can't accept that. Even though it was fallout from some actions of Rick's that finally splintered the family, the problems were there and were things I've always tried to work on to make better. But in real life some things don't get better, some things just are and you can exhaust yourself trying to change it as much as you want but until you find the grace to accept what is you will continue to feel buried alive and burdened.


from a puzzled goddess taking stock and figuring it out...blessed be.

90% Used Books... something's got to go

...maybe some people?
Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...

It's been a long time...It isn't as if I don't have things to say. The world is still turning. I still have teenage children, I'm still married and I'm still facing health issues that have made my life one of challenges from the time I can open my eyes in the morning until I may close my eyes at night.

My daughter has started me on some new loves however.She has taken my old loves of jewelry making, working with metal and wire and beads and glass and pearls and reminded me of just how much I have always LOVED to make jewelry. So that has become something I can maybe concentrate on when the pain gets particularly excruciating so that I can try to block it out for a bit.

I'm also trying to slowly set up her site for her jewelry at: http://fireinspired.blogspot.com/p/kumihimo.html She and her dad are the main forces behind "Fire Inspired Creations."

I'm going to try something a little strange with the extra stuff I have hanging around here. At least 90% seems to be books, but there is the odd knick knack, video, or strange piece of vintage whatever that I may want to get rid of, ....so since quite a few of my books are 2nd hand and library or goodwill or other thrift store finds, that I normally searched long and hard for to fill the gaps in the series. I will be posting small blogs about the books and other stuff  I'm selling and selling it on a blog called, appropriately enough: "Mostly Used Books for Sale" http://puzzledbooks4sale.blogspot.com/ and I'll probably be putting references and info in our librarything listing at: http://www.librarything.com/catalog/sprowett/yourlibrary . My books aren't first editions or anything. And some aren't in great shape. I'll be honest about that when I list them. But some of them were darn hard to find, and still seem to be, and if others are like me, and just want to read the darned story, they won't care as much if the spine is cracked, or if it has some water damage or a bent cover, as long as it's readable. If they care about that, they can look for it at Amazon or elsewhere. Some of these books have traveled hard roads to libraries, goodwills, garage sales and then into my voracious hands. : ) They stood no chance.

After checking into Amazon, Alibris, and Ebay, I just didn't feel like spending that much to get rid of things that are old friends...I may have to do it eventually. But I'll try this stubborn way first. And I didn't want to do Craig's list because I didn't want people coming by, I'm disabled and getting more agoraphobic by the day. And these aren't Free so no FreeCycle. I'd like to trade them for books I haven't read, or need to complete my current authors, or even maybe some older movie or song cd/ or dvd's I'm interested in. I'll see how this goes.

I'm here, just trying to dig out from the 20 years of sedentary life and realize that I've most likely got at least 10, if not 20 more. :D The puzzled goddess wants to be occupied!

It's done so I can share a Midsummer Knight's Comic....?

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...

Text for the Herald
Let it be known that We, Thorin, Dread Sable Lion, and Dagmaer, Fair
and Gracious, Sable Lioness have Created to the Rank and
Dignity of a Knight Our Trusty and Well Beloved,
Lourenço de Compostella and have made him the same on
account of his Chivalry and Prowess upon the field. Let all An
Tirian hearts rejoice as a new made knight and member of Our
peerage stands forth.
In witness of this day do we set our hand and seal on the  __________
day of August Anno Societatus 46.

The scroll design was done by HL Sannan the OneEyed of Hauksgarðr
Design based on the Galician  13th Century Manuscript Las Cantigas de Santa Maria Chansonnier
primarily elements from Codex E but elements from Codex F (the Florentine Codex) were  used as well as both were similar stylistically 

The reduction in size from the original 35X50cm or 14X20" was due to the size of hot press paper I had on hand.

 The color choices were based on manuscript color choices/schemes for borders and non-story elements
Other color choices based on reality and or arms of individuals involved. ;) M.Graham designer gouache was used for paint with colors being matched as closely as possible to those seen online in the Cantigas. Metals used were all sumi ink by yasutomo and were applied first and burnished.

This manuscript is considered by many to be one of the earliest forms of comic 'book' and as such, tells many 'stories' http://anthropro.blogspot.com/2010/11/medieval-comic-las-cantigas-de-santa.html
the story of this scroll is Lourenço's SCA journey to this point from the OP and his own words.

The first two frames are the AWW  July 2003 where he and the now Sir Godric ap Rhys (colors Sable and Or) held a bridge against an overwhelming number of opponents from the West. Lourenço was known as n and was awarded the Fury of the Lion for their courageous last stand at the bridge.

I messed up the order of the frames a bit when I was doing my cartoon under-drawing for this...but light boxes are wonderful things...

Next Ejulfbjorn makes the journey to 3 Mountains from his home in Glyn Dwfn, where he learned under the tutelage of Duke Sir James Greyhelm (the blue dragon wings on the boat to guide him and the 2 silver spears and the silver and blue shield in the viking boat) and Sir William Brennan (the black and red shield in the boat). Lourenço's own axe and shield are in the boat as well. Everybody I consulted liked the waves under these boats that were a very dark indigo with white swirls. But, of course, as Ejulfbjorn, was NORSE when he first got to 3 Mountains before his personna change, I HAD to have him arrive in a Norse ship with the proper warlike accoutrements from the people he had been learning from.

Next Lourenço is seen as his incarnation as a Stormgod, the Barony of Stromgard's defender, (with the white horse of his knight William Brennan in the background.) he is shown in the Eric in his own armor of his colors with his inspiration watching. In my cartoon above, this is in the second square. In the final it is in the 4th square. On Facebook I posted the pictures Lourenço sent me of his armor, himself, his lady and his banner so I had a chance of making some of it match his actual stuff. I checked the armorial for the James Greyhelm listing and Lourenço sent me the information on this first knight, William Brennan, so that his horse, and colors, could be added to the scenes. He sent me the link on Godric ap Rhys as well so I could add his colors to the bridge battle.

Checking the OP, I discovered when he was awarded the King's Favor and his AoA and so could try my hand at small likenesses of Tiernan and Miranda. They aren't great, but hopefully aren't insulting and they get the spirit of the point across. The last panels are Lourenço after he received his King's Favor from King Tiernan, also receiving his Award of Arms from King Tiernan and Queen Miranda.

And in the final panel, Lourenço is put on vigil and is seen in a vigil chapel with his head bare and his weapons outside the door. The shield division was taken from Lourenço's device that is in submission, as are the colors of the surcoat. The surcoat style is from the manuscript. The wolves and bears at the box crossings are from his proposed arms. The banner on the historated initial is similar to one he carries in reality as a war banner.

I sent a few links with the information about the scroll so if the recipient was interested he could do more research:  http://www.edilan.es/hojas/0002e.htm
http://www.library.arizona.edu/exhibits/illuman/12_08.html

And I added a few cautions from scribes I've learned over the last few months. :D

This scroll is hot pressed paper and a water soluble paint with waterproof ink, 

BUT please,

realize  over 20 hours of research went into its creation, 

                       plus 6 hours of calligraphy

                       plus 15 hours of underdrawing

                    then an additional 70 hours of illumination (painting)

That is over a hundred hours of an artisan's time. THIS artisan's time...Whether you like, hate or are indifferent to the product, 

please don't:

fold, roll, or sit on it where other scribes, or I, can see you do it....it discourages us all, and makes us all feel unappreciated

sweat, drip, cry, or let rain hit the paint. It will smear and ruin the painting and all those hours will be for naught.

Please don't store it on a dashboard in the sun, the wax on the seal will melt...but it will ride home there fairly well. ;D

Please do: hold it by its edges, keep in an envelop, and if you don't want to frame it...give it to your mother....maybe she'll want to frame it? 

Nothing made me want to wince more than seeing original works of art thumbtacked to a wall, or folded and slid under the recipient's rear for safe keeping.

Congratulations Sir Knight, and I hope you enjoy,

Lady Sannan the OneEyed of Hauksgarðr

I'd already managed to bung it up enough just because of my constant fight with depth perception while I was working on it. Just 2 more weeks would have been a luxury. I'm feeling whiny. My eyes are a constant burn and ache now. So bad I can hardly sleep. And my left arm, the one I haven't been able to afford the surgery on yet, was holding my ink bottle and managed to spasm into me juggling the ink bottle right over the top of the scroll in the last two days of production. Not just once, but twice.

I know it's just that I take on commissions as if I'm not disabled anymore and then act like I'm not and my body rebels. It's rebelling now. The pain hasn't climbed down the scale far enough for me to really sleep since I finished.



And here, my covering paper slipped while I was doing the flourishing Batarde Initials...The paper that is SUPPOSED to protect from stuff like this...and caused this by slipping into wet paint and carrying it into the margin. That little red blotch. There were a few other blotches by the calligraphy, but I expect those, cause I'm not so great at calligraphy. So one of these days I'll have a perfect product and have to find something else to bitch about. ;D

 I know better. I just felt so honored to be asked. I don't seem to get asked to do things very often so I hate to say no. But I need to learn that my body can't live up to these kinds of demands. My eye gave out 2 days before the scroll finished and so I had no depth perception trying to finish. Luckily the main calligraphy was done or I would have been toast.  As it was, the hand spasms caused some bobbles that wouldn't have happened it I hadn't been so tired that I had to push it. If I hadn't had to wait so many days up front to start. If I'd known even 2 weeks sooner it would have been much cleaner all around and I would have been much happier.

This has the ugly black ink bobble at the lower corner.

This is the same spot. It didn't clean up that well. Hopefully it will be matted and framed.

The worst of the bobbles he probably will never notice unless he, or someone else looks. They will be under a frame or matting edge. Others, I will always notice, I'm a scribe....gee, I will always wish I just would have had time to do that....

In this one my pen came down into the ship caption from above.

The pen marks, the ink, the paint..the bobbles, it's all part of it and there are ways to fix almost all of it so I didn't have to start over luckily, because I didn't have the almost 100 hours of time to devote to the project again.

The red splotch cleaned up fairly well.

I got thinking about it....how many armorers devote 100 hours or more to how many suits of armor they build? How often?  I know many scribes who put in this amount of time in research and honing their skills regularly. Others who don't as much, who just trace and paint, not as much researching into the era of the client, but wow....we're insane....   Maybe some of it is I just don't paint or draw that fast. ;D

My FB portfolio
My FB charters- medieval illumination I have done on other's designs

from an insanely puzzled goddess