A Discovery In The Middle Of The Night – Diary Entry

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A Discovery In The Middle Of The Night

This is an update on my Feb 7 fall and broken right side of body injury. It is a Vente Vent. Unless you want to know me better, you are allowed not to read this.

I’ve laid awake – most nights lately – trying to visualize a way I can use my laptop and continue my blogging and:
1) Not have my wrist touch anything hard and/or not soft around the edges
2) Not have my elbow touch anything hard
3) Align my back so that it is comfortable with this
4) Be sure the arm spread and the back thing align
5) Keep my right leg elevated above my heart

Hahaha! Piece of cake. I’ve cheated on the elevation part but not by much. And so, aren’t you lucky, here I am once again.

I’ve considered leaving WordPress. If I can’t keep up with people, whatz the point? But, I want to stay and see my way through this with people following my recovery and my writing and my life. I guess in that order.

Most of my energy is going into my recovery from tripping on a child’s tiny bristle block. I feel I need to write more about that and how depressed I’ve become from being homebound and hounded with medical care.

I don’t want to have a meltdown here but…I sense one approaching.

This is all my wrist will take today.  I’m hoping to submit a piece to FFAW tomorrow.  ‘We’ll’ see.

Ellespeth

When There’s No Longer Anything Concrete to Touch – A Diary Entry

Sometimes I come back and delete an entry – like I’m the only one in the world who experiences these sorts of moments and I don’t want to seem odd.  I’ll try not to do that this time.  I’ll just go ahead and post this.  Deep breath…

I will write a poem about this day’s discoveries – or a story or a novel or just more entries. Who knows?

I am reading a lot lately. Ever since I purchased my Kindle Paper Light thing I’d sworn I’d never use in my life. And so, when my vision became so bad – legally blind in one eye – and reading printed books became more and more difficult and the online PC Kindle just didn’t feel like a book…reading, something I used to live to do (right up there with writing) began to drift away from me. I hate audio books (well I shouldn’t say that since I may be sentenced to them one day) because I like to put my own voice into my reading – mine and the writer’s…not some second cousin twice removed voice.

I’ve just finished reading Savage Beauty (biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay) and Drowning Ruth (I guess it was some sort of emotional thriller. It was scary in its possibilities) and I’m almost finished reading Come Back Early Today – a book about lovers going through one of them developing dementia.

My mother suffers from dementia. She had a stroke – shortly after my parents’  home was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. She developed dementia after her stroke and my father felt so very responsible to care for her. Then my father died. Or gave up. It must have been difficult to move – forcefully – from the New Orleans French Quarter to Tennessee. I guess, at their age (75) I would want to give up, too, rather than trying to adapt – again.

Maybe that’s how that book came to my Kindle – Come Back Early Today. Maybe I wanted – at some point – to read a personal account about dementia. Not some medical stupid and impersonal stuff.

I don’t remember a time in my life when I felt a real closeness to my mother. I do remember being an emotional support to her when I became an adult – because I felt sorry for her and angry that society was such that she thought she had to stay married because she was a faithful Catholic and had had five kids and “What was I to do with five children and no husband?”

When we kids were all grown and moved away, she was still bemoaning her life with my father. One evening I had dinner with her and challenged her to leave and be free of it all. She couldn’t leave her ‘things’…which were eventually ripped from her by Mother Nature.

And that’s what I want to write about about Hurricane Katrina – our total inability to determine the moment total loss will/does enter a life and how that moment is received.

Oh well so now – that didn’t hurt much. I’m clearer headed and more hopeful these days. I was right to reduce my anti depressant. I’ve actually been crying sometimes lately. That’s a good feeling – to have a sad feeling now and then. That’s normal …

I’m giving myself lots of slack…and the easier I am on myself, the kinder I feel towards those who occupy my space now and then.

Ellespeth

You’re Forcing Me…

cottageto take a trip tomorrow – about an hour away – to a garden cottage on the Pacific Ocean.  How dare you!

I know, right?  Some people, reading this, may think I’m joking.  But I’m not.  If you are one of those types who thinks I’m joking, let me put it this way:

you are forcing me to take a trip – about an hour away – to a garden cottage on the Pacific Ocean.  How dare you!  To add to the fear factor, you shall drive us on winding roads through redwood forests – all ending somewhere near the Pacific Ocean.  How can you do this to me?!

Really, okay?  These are the times in my life that I’d just like to kick myself in the bootie 😦 It’s not that I don’t like to travel.  It’s just that I don’t like to get there and back.

Has anyone reading this ever read A Confederacy of Dunces?  If you haven’t,  you certainly must do so as soon as possible.  There is a character, in the novel, Ignatius J. Reilly,  who – at the end of the novel finally risks making a huge stretch and – travels 90 miles from New Orleans to Baton Rouge.

So that’s pretty much how I feel when I take a vacation trip.  I try to make vacation trips as seldom as possible.  I don’t like leaving my little mapped out parameters.  I haven’t always been this way but I’ve been working on being this way since I was three years old.  I wrote a poem about that day here.  I got better about traveling for a few years, but now – as I’m getting older – the fear to travel is coming back.  So a huge step going on here.

We’re packed and I’m going.  It’s all just a part of not letting depression take hold of my life.  So, I keep going and you keep by my side 🙂

I may be a bit sparse during the month of July – or not.  I’m signed up for NaNoWriMo – write 50,000 words in a month.  I’ll be doing some of that on this vacation. 1700 words a day.

Its not a long vacation.  Two days.  But it means traveling on and in unknowns.  I like to know my life.  That’s why I can imagine and write about other lives and other worlds.

This may not make sense but I’ll post in anyway.

Ellespeth

What We Never Knew – Fiction

Time for another installment of   Friday Fictioneers  hosted by Rochelle.  100 words or so based on the image below. Click on the froggy link (after this piece) and come join us!

I hope people will also enjoy the afterthought I’ve added to this piece…the music that inspired me:

walking trailWhat We Never Knew

The museum came to number objects in the house for their Dust Bowl exhibit. Grandpa hadn’t changed much since Grandma had disappeared.  The farmhouse and barn they’d built was as Midwest as ever.  It’s all a Bed and Breakfast now – west of Topeka.

I was spending one last night at the old place.  I was sitting cross-legged on an old feathered guest bed reading Grandma’s last letter home to Grandpa:

…I know you’ll never understand the workings of my frail mind, dearest love.  I’m sorry.   I’m not strong enough to stay.  Stella refused to come with me…

Your loving,

Charlotte

Ellespeth

**I’ve been trying – for a year or more – to write something, anything, to show my totally lost feelings for the  words to this song – and these images.  These words and these images so relevant to us – always.

I’ve read that, during the Dust Bowl,  women hung themselves over the impossibility of living up to the expectation of keeping a clean house.  As a woman, this fact won’t leave my mind.

Here is the song that inspired this story.   Thank you for reading and listening.
E

 

photo prompt Copyright Dawn Landau

The Funkiness of February

I’ve been in a funk – for at least the last couple of months.  It’s not the depression .  It’s restlessness.  I have some rather important decisions to make about my creative life.  Everything matters more these days.  I’ve placed expectations on myself.  These must be met.  More on that later.

Happiness is Amazon delivering our replacement hummingbird feeder.  Just like this copper(ish/plastic) and glass one.  The old one – over 10 years old – begged for replacement.

And then there is one like this that we’ve had hanging for about a year now…the hummers don’t seem to like this one as much.  We ordered a longer hook – arrived today.  Now it  hangs lower on the balcony.

It’s mating season for our Anna hummingbirds.  I wouldn’t want them to exhaust themselves looking for food when romance is so much fun.

Ellespeth