Letter to the sprats

Dear Sprats,
I had a fine day yesterday visiting you all, it was good to see you in your respective nests.
However I feel the need to make this announcement:
The next time you come up to visit me in my nest, I shall be delighted to see you, take walks with you and talk with you on the many cabbages and kings that interest us both.  If on this visit you leave some of your very important belongings in my care, they aren't going to be driven down to your place.  You can retrieve them in your own time and with your own vehicle.  I am not doing this again.  I am too tired and the weather is too hot.
Love,
Ma.

short sharp learning curve

Things that people told me that they had to learn the hard way.

1. Turtleneck shirts and halo head braces do not work.
2. If you are in a halo brace, you can't look down to aim when you pee.
3. you can't wear a hat in a halo brace either.
4. Lock  both the wheels of your wheelchair when you are on a slope.
5. pull up your pants and tuck in your shirt before you put the oxygen tube in your nose.
6. If you are splitting wood from a wheel chair, Don't lock the wheels.
7. If you have a bike and an oxygen tank, swing your leg over first, then put the tank in the basket.
8. If you have a bike and an oxygen tank and pannier baskets, think about what you are doing before you swing your leg over the seat to get off.
9. Be sure that your prosthetic sock is clear of the locking pin before you jam your stub in the socket
10. Make sure that your leg is on and secured before you stand up.

Got any more?

Things you can do with a cane

I was watching the Footless Man maneuvering his way through the front door with his wheelchair and his cane.  I particularly admire the skill and dexterity with which he reaches out and hooks his cane around the door knob and shuts the door behind himself.
Over the last day or so I watched him with his cane.  He uses it for balance, to fish things out of crevasses, off higher shelves and out of the trash.  He checks depth on curbs and stairs, pokes things, moves the cat out of the way, pushes buttons, flips switches, and gets extra consideration for his slow moving self all with one useful tool.
It looks so good maybe I should have one too.

Father's day

Dear Dad,
I took the day off to putter about in the kitchen, and found myself holding the wooden spoon that you gave to me back when you were teaching me to make bread.  It is the spoon that I reach for most when cooking, and I not only still have it it is in pretty good condition considering forty +  years of hard use.
I remember the brick loaf that I created ( raising time? how about fifteen minutes?) in my eagerness to try making bread.  I also recall that you actually helped me bake the brick, and then even ate a slice.  I was going from good old Betty Crocker who always managed to add in complications that would discourage anyone starting out.  Pro's know when to deep six the instructions, beginners don't.
The next Saturday morning you sat with me and took me through the entire process.  Mixing, kneading, and putting the bowl on the television to let it rise, on to the shaping, final rise and the end product. That was the beginning of really feeling that I had a place in the kitchen.
Bread has been a big part of cooking and kitchen work between us, dad.  I can't think of anything that makes for a better smell in the house.  To me there is nothing that is better than the heel from a fresh loaf spread with butter and melting as I eat.
I still remember supper on baking day where all the heels were taken off the loafs so that they could be eaten fresh.
I passed it on to the boys dad, They may not be using it but they know how, and when the time comes, your gift will be there for them too.
Happy Father's day.
Love Cath

All these years later, I still get a thrill when I take the raw ingredients, and there ends up being food on the table.

Landing with a bounce

I got back Monday.  I can add a bit of wisdom to my store. 

• Note to self, if you must spend a night in the San Fransisco Airport, 

1. Dress warmly don't forget your purple fuzzy Ruana next time
2. They close down the bathrooms at 11pm.
3. The Nursery room is your best bet.
4. 53 year old women don't do this as easily as they once did.

I am still digesting the workshop and what I learned there.  I have changed.
Small bits:
I do not need to be Normal
to be Whole.
You can't help someone when you need their approval.

My Brother and My sister in law are really nice people.  I felt welcomed, accepted and loved by them both.
My vision (The way I see things) is unique,  and it helps people heal.
Rachel Remen Said to me,
"You take things that are very dark, and your drawings let people laugh in recognition of themselves.  This is important."
I told my brother,
"sometimes the most important thing that an abused child needs to know is that the Monster is dead."
Being heard is healing.
Everything has a story, and we are our stories.

these are the socks that I knit for Rachel.  She tells me that her feet are always cold.
my brother took me on a tour of Marin county.  His weekends are precious, and he took the time to be with me.  Thanks General.

disturbances in the night

i was too sleepy this morning and forgot compleatly to talk about the 2AM visit by California's finest.  They were going door to door banging  on them and asking who was in the room, apologising and moving on to the next door, bang bang bang.
I got up before they got to my door and asked if I could help them.  They were entirely uninterested in middle aged ladies with hair that looked like a fright wig.  They finished  whatever they were doing and went away,  I went back to sleep.
 This morning I was talking to someone else who was at the confrence and staying  here , she told me that there was a girl who got abducted and they thought she might have been brought to this hotel.
Something tells me that this isn't the most  savory place I ever stayed in.
I am very glad that I am well past the age where I might be abducted for my feminine charms.
In sock news, I finished the socks for Rachel, and they fit.  She tried them on, and asked about their care.  It is a funny thing.  Sometimes I have a very hard time explaining that just because they are hand made does not mean that normal wash can't happen.  They are socks.  They need to be easy to wash.  I rarely make socks that need special care because I think that most people won't enjoy leaky dye or having to be that careful with them.  I love the two pairs of hand wash socks that I have but I don't much like washing them and I try not to do that to busy people.
Anyway, Rachel liked them and I can make her more now because I know how long to make them.
so there. end of soapbox.
Tomorrow I pull up my anchor and go have fun.  my first stop is a yarn shop just down the road.  Not very surprising that, what better souvenier than sock yarn.  Then I meet up with my big brother and he shows me about a bit.
Monday I go home again.  jiggety jog.

Alrighty then

I am having a wonderful time at this conference.  The processes that I am learning are pure gold.
Yesterday I showed Rachel my cards.  She was delighted. She also told me that it would do a lot of good to publish them.  She called them Healing in a bag.  This brought up a conversation about the fear that paralysed me. She told me to find out why I was not killed.
Results are surfacing.
I have been living with a lampshade over the light in my heart.  I have been so afraid that it would go out again.  I have a sense that I don't need  the lampshade.  I need  the hurricane  glass that protects the flame and lets it shine far and wide.
Am I there?  not yet.
It is coming.
Photos will be happening soon as well.

long day

My goodness I am tired.
there were some exercises that were around telling your story, and listening generously to the story.
then there is reviewing your day backwards and asking three questions:
What surprized me today?
what inspired me today?
what touched my heart today?
last exercise
Listeningto mistery.
these are the short notes.
i am tootired to type

Adventures while traveling

Well Here I sit, in my motel room winding down from the process of getting from here to there.
I am glad to be here.  make no mistake about that.  all the same this isn't a ritzy room.
First off, it smells like a gas station bathroom.  one of the old ones where you go in and ask for the key, and then you try not to touch anything you absolutely don't have to.
then,.
the guy in the room next door is having a screaming fiight with someone wherein Fucking is the major adjective.used,  loudly.  However, the manager told them to shut up and I guess they did
I expect that tomorrow I will find the grocery store that I am told is there, and I will figure some things out.  Meantime it is bedtime and tomorrow will be a busy day.
Goodnight