arrrggggh I did it to him again…

Yesterday, I took a tumble off a ladder to the concrete floor in the garage.   I fell into about the only blank place on the garage floor except for smacking one arm into the giant steel scooter carrier.

steel scooter carrier (L); steel motorcycle engine (center); cast iron sink (R)
I only hit the scooter carrier. How is that possible?

I was extremely lucky:  the only reason I didn’t break my arm when it hit the thing is that the arm smacked parallel to the long lines of the thing.  The bruises are coming along nicely.

pretty colors!
Using forensic evidence, I deduce that I flattened my twisted arm against the scooter carrier. Can’t believe I didn’t break it. Or my head!

I didn’t even hit my head; I’m a little disappointed:  maybe it would have shaken up some of the fog and forced it out my ears.

I also didn’t break the heavy-duty electric stapler, which I’d left at the top of the ladder.  Thank-the-whole-Universe that it wasn’t in my hand!  Can you imagine the plunk-plunk-plunk-plunkety-plunk of an out of control electric stapler?!

I learned something:  I do scream spontaneously at the top of my lungs when I’m falling uncontrolled to a hard concrete floor and wondering what garage stuff I’m about to slam into.

Big Mister learned something, too:   From all the way in the house, he can hear me scream!

Sorry ’bout that, Big.  I’m so sorry you had to find me in a heap on the garage floor, preceded by hearing the screaming.  Egad.  (Happy 14 years!  Look, I didn’t screw it up:  I’m alive!  Again!  Bonus points!)

Well, back I go to the garage in a few minutes, where I will stay, feet on the ground and look at pretty pictures or somethin’ safe!

For more pretty colors, go see Kathy McCullough’s post about her tumbling down the narrow, steep stairs in her 100-year-old house.  She made those stairs into art.  I could mosaic the floor in some way…  hmmmm….  Maybe just sidewalk chalk drawings!  I know!  A chalk-person outline!  har har har!




never mind; I’m used to the other way

Big Mister, swell Big Mister, has been giving me a boatload of his time.  He works hard at his job 5 days a week, makes the drive to visit my mother one evening a week, does 98% of the cooking, fixes my shoulder when it goes bad, and just generally is a delightful companion.

Today, he was helping me to extend the shelving in the studio.  My idea about construction is:  I just want two shelves right there, only about 4 feet long, so it should be fast.  No. No. No.  Poor patient guy.  He does manage to show me the error of my ways like so:

“Here, hold this.”

“Do you want to hold this up or go fetch?”  (I chose “fetch,” but he made me be the holder-upper.)

“Help me tighten the clamps, then you won’t have to hold the wood while I use the saw because it makes you cry.”

I’m willing, so start to twist the screw thingie to get the clamp to meet the boards.   I don’t even bother to think:  lefty-lucy, righty-tighty because it’s never what I expect.  I’m pretty sure the guys what put the threaded things together were actually standing upside down, and that’s why sometimes it’s left-tighty, righty-lucy, like the camper windows.  Why why why?!  So I’m helpin’ by tightening the screw thingie and he says:

“Wait!  Stop!  Oh, never mind.  It’s OK; I’m just used to the other way.”  (The other way meaning:  he almost always has to correct the direction I’ve chosen.)

I barked with laughter.  How could I not?  How could I argue or feel offended?!

Shelving is coming along.  !!  Yaaaaaaaay!



the awakening

I  am coming awake from the illness-induced numb-distance from the world, here at the middle of the 6th month of my recovery.  And hoo-boy, what I have wakened to!  It’s like coming home to find out your teenager has had a kegger in your absence and the house has had a bomblet dropped in it.  Complete disarray everywhere on top of the usual mundane furnishings.  And you keep finding snoring, drooling kids in the corners!

That’s me now.  In the holy-crap, where am I and what am I gonna do now?   Truly it was easier and gentler to be numb.  But OK, this is what I’ve got today.

experiencing life in my new skin

Last Friday, without thinking the possibilities through, a friend came over who got me out of the house.  She drove us around to yard sales and we even had lunch out.  In theory that was fine, not a lot of activity.   But I found out she is an angry, shouting driver, unaware of her own overwhelmedness, so busts forward along her path, yelling and swearing and pounding the steering wheel.  I even had to ask her to park the car if she was going to text.  Eeeeeeeek!

Lunch out seemed like it would be a chance to mellow out from the ride–the restaurant was quiet.  But the canned music from overhead made my insides shriek with pain, made my head feel as if it were being flattened from above.

After lunch I was all in, so much so that I couldn’t even find the clarity to ask to go home.  Floated through, leaning against the headrest, until I got to the safety.  Then, rested the remainder of the day, feeling like a deer in headlights.

the beach walk

On Saturday morning, I consented to go for a walk along a pebbly beach with Big.  No big deal, I’ve been there many times.  Except, this time, I had to engage fully in controlling my legs and feet, and the effort quickly became a battle.  What?!  Surprise!  Walking isn’t predictably consistent either.

Up we went to the bluff.  I rested on a bench, insides trembling, and panting slightly because I couldn’t get my anxious-breath.  Big went off to get the car and he directed me the other way over an easy, short bluff-top dirt trail to a parking lot where he could pick me up.

As I sat on that bench, wondering what to do, wondering if I could just stay there forever, an elderly couple came along the trail.  I’m good at hiding my anguish I figured, so I said hello in some easy way.  The woman looked carefully at me, you know, just a bit too long between strangers, and asked if I was OK.  Oh yes, says I, just resting.  Inside my head I was screaming No, I’m not OK!  Please let me walk with you!   (Next time I will ask!)

They went along and I sat there, bereft in a small way, easing my breathing, knowing it was best to just get walking.  I did a mundane thing–picked up someone’s trash and dropped it in the receptacle, then turned and started walking.  We’re not talking a mile or even a half-mile, but it seemed so far to meet Big.  I don’t give up easily, but the thought had stayed that I could just not go.

the irony in the overwhelmed

I took 10 steps or less and suddenly a fast-moving freight train was roaring by.  Even I could get the irony of being so terribly overwhelmed by little things and here I am faced with a freight racing by only 50 feet from me.  It’s funny, really, in a dark humor way.

May I say that I rose to the occasion?  I stuck my fingers in my ears, was not singing la-la-la-la-I-can’t-hear-you, and turned my back to reduce the sound.  I understood that there was no getting away from that train except going back down to the beach.   That accepted, I turned around and faced the train and something new happened!

I became acutely aware of the discrete sounds of each type of car.  The empty flat-beds gave me time to breathe, the fluid tankers whooshed the air around them in a roar, the grain tankers rumbled.  I heard the end of the train coming and waited–just to be sure there wasn’t another train parked on a siding waiting to come the other way toward me!

The path indeed parallels the tracks, is the dirt filling of the ocean-and-tracks sandwich.   I made it, but with anguish and upset.  Part of the upset was coming up against the More

Can you believe that… or not?

JustI has a little something for all of us again! Go see! And DO!

JustUs Society

My Rockin’ the Purple friend has me thinking again. Lahgitana  has a way with words and expresses a depth of thinking that challenges me, even as she writes of her self-described fog of recovery from a life changing event which occurred this past February. To catch up, read about it here: 112.8 – recollections and here: Recuperation: bubble theory.

In response to her thought provoking posts, I’ve found two videos (from TED) that I hope will challenge her (and you, dear reader) to think about how you think!

Two questions, I would like to pose, before you view the videos:

  1.  Can we believe what we see?
  2.  Can we believe (or have faith) in that which we can’t see?

I’ve included the partial bios preceding each of the speakers, including links to their homepages.

Michael Shermer debunks myths, superstitions and urban legends, and explains why we believe them…

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the REST of the drawings!

It ain’t easy being me.

I posted a collection of geometric mosaic drawings on my room wall and here.  Occasionally, afterwards, I would see a pattern in a book that seemed familiar:  hadn’t I drawn that?  is it on the wall?  No?  OK, I guess I didn’t draw it.

Here are the drawings I had secreted away (from myself!) that began it all!  I did do all the patterns in Robert Field’s book.  I’m still unclear how my brain could parse these designs then reproduce them while I could hardly think one thought completely through.  There’s probably research out there, but I guess I don’t care.  It just was.

what I did on my brain-vacation

Here is the evidence of the work I did on the Roman mosaic geometric patterns.  It finally occurred to me to post them where I could see them.  Now, hanging out in this blue room, here is the joy of mosaics for me.

One of my goals as a mosaic artist is to design floor mosaics.

Many of these patterns come from mosaic floors in Fishbourne Palace in Britain.  That’s on my list to see some day.   Maybe I’ll start my postponed Italy trip by landing in the UK and seeing what I can see!

(click on any pic to get a slideshow started.)

“I am the life-force power of the universe…” Jill Bolte Taylor

JustI originally shared this info in a comment over on my blog. Of course, I nagged her about posting it on HER blog so I could reblog. Is that lazy or smart of me?!!

JustUs Society

I posted the link below to Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor’s moving presentation on Stroke of Insight for a friend who has had a rough go since February when she was hospitalized with sepsis. See her post: Rockin’ the Purple! 112.8…recollections

I was catching up on my blog reading last night because I’ve been so darned busy, I haven’t had a minute to myself for two weeks, and I read a comment that Lahgitana made to friend…

“I haven’t cried much; I think it would be cathartic, esp. when I consider that I missed going to Italy this spring and that my body will never function the same as it did the day before the hospital!”

Well, this immediately brought to mind this presentation, and I wanted to share that all things are possible, even when you aren’t totally in control of what is happening to you. Time really is on…

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blogging friends

After I got out of hospital in mid-February, I was away from blogging world because the computer made me too queasy.  Took me ages to start wandering through the blogs I follow.

One day, made lovely by this discovery on heretherebespiders, I got a big ole dose of the warm fuzzies!  I was reminded that we really do connect here in blog-world!

Thank you, Spiders, for noticing that I was absent and for the fun art! (She had posted this on her blog:
art by heretherebespiders


For you regular visitors, you know I’ve been spending a fair bit of time with the TV for company.  McHale’s Navy, Peter Gunn, Rifleman, and movies when I feel like it.  You know also that my brain remains fuzzy from the excitement created by the hospitalization in early February.

For several weeks now, I’ve thought I was truly losing my marbles because the TV has been changing channels spontaneously!   Did I blonk the remote?  Is our TV dying?  Is someone outside the window changing the channel?!  What the heck?!

Hmmm…. I finally figured out it wasn’t me or a helpful neighbor.

The Sun has been dictating my television watching!  Earth has been the target of bursts of intense solar energy.  All the warnings about disruption of electronics are true!

It’s happening now, during a replay of the movie Notting Hill.  There I am keeping an eye on a nice lil ole romance while I read or do something else and I suddenly realize that the TV is showing us how to mix peanut sauce in a food processor.  Usually at the romantic dialogue or meaningful glances…  sigh….  It’s hard enough right now, Mr. Sol.  Gimmee a break!

Glad I’m not flying an aeroplane; the TV is challenge enough!

something to think about

Q:  How do you catch a unique rabbit?

A:  Unique up on it.


Q:  How do you catch a tame rabbit?

A:  Tame way.


Q:  What do you call a thrown stick that won’t come back?

A:  A boomerang.


Q:  What time is it when an elephant sits on a fence?

A:  Time to get a new fence.


Q:  What’s the last thing you take off before you get in bed?

A:  You take your feet off the floor.


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