TampatownGirl Talks

It's Friday, baby

2012-01-27T13:57:00.002-05:00

Not that TGIF means anything to a grad student. I have mega homework this weekend. My web archiving professor gave me the opportunity to redo my technical report because apparently one of the web archives I wrote about is not a true web archive. I don't understand how the National Archives of the U.S. is not a true web archive, but the Archives Canada website is. Anyway, since the Canadian archival site is "good" I now will amend this hair-pulling report in the hopes of receiving a better grade. And I have sooooo many chapters to read for both classes as well. Got bogged down in one Research Methods chapter. It's taken me days to read it and I still haven't finished. I have no idea what's going on in that chapter, but there's a quiz waiting for me when I'm done. Oh joy.

I bought a Fantasy Five ticket the other day. I haven't looked up the results. Maybe I'm a winner. Maybe I can run away to Tahiti or Hawaii or Key West (depending how much money I won). Maybe . . . oh well. I think I'll take a nap or maybe I'll drink a glass of chocolate wine. Sounds horrendous, but, man oh man, is it goooood!! Maybe that will get me through this long grad schoolwork weekend.

More Kvetching

2012-01-23T15:05:00.000-05:00

I have a web archiving report due tomorrow, and I don't understand how to answer at least half of the queries my professor has posted on her two-page checklist. I should have known that anything to do with the Web was going to be way too technical for my wayward brain (which constantly tells me to run outside and play, play, play). I toyed with the idea of simply not doing it, but then for sure there would be no "A" grade for me. Probably isn't going to happen anyway. If this is the first report, what are the others going to be like? And I'm not even going to mention the 1,000-word research paper due in April. Should have become a kindergarten teacher. Then I could play with paints and colors and picture books all day with a room full of busy (and, no doubt, noisy) five-year-olds. Nah. That wouldn't have worked either. Guess I just better keep on truckin' on the path I've chosen.

Sucky Day

2012-01-22T15:51:00.001-05:00

Today is a sucky day. I couldn't get to sleep until 4:00am. (One good way to urge the sleep to come is to read a textbook - snore. . . .) My cat Paquita woke me up at 9:00am, complaining bitterly about the lateness of breakfast. I commiserated and closed my eyes. An hour later, with Paquita practically sitting on my head, I crawled out of bed and opened the cat food tin. Ah, peace. Then it was time to feed my dog Sully. (He was not impressed. It's now 3:33pm and his uneaten breakfast is withering in his bowl.)

After the feeding of the zoo, I sat outside in the warm morning air and continued reading the textbook that put me to sleep hours earlier. I actually finally finished that long technical chapter, amid airplane after airplane bellowing over my house, which is in the flight path for Tampa International Airport. Then I decided to go grocery shopping before the lack-of-sleep tiredness came calling. While I was getting ready, I heard the ugly sound of booming bass. I looked out the window to see one of my neighbors vacuuming the inside of a pickup truck, doors open, windows down, thundering music blasting over the loud burr of the vacuum cleaners. So, I put on my white bitch jeans and went outside to ask the guy to turn it down. He apologized and did so, but then turned it back up after I was back in my house for a few minutes. Man, I get so tired of dealing with these ignorant, belligerent assholes. So I wrote down the number of the villa when I left to do grocery shopping because that made me feel better. When I came home, the music was tolerable, but it became loud again after I was ensconced in my villa for a few minutes. I found out on the property appraiser's website that that particular villa is a rental, so if I continue to have problems (it was quite a noisy place when I first moved in, but then it became quiet - that may be over), I will contact the owners and let them know what's going on. I know people say live and let live, but if your living is booming into my house and I'm forced to listen to your crap against my will, especially when I have tons of research to do for a paper due Wednesday, then I'm going to do something about it.

On top of all that, two team members in my Research Methods class haven't yet posted the answers to their assigned questions and the whole shebang is due today. I'm team leader this week and I guess if they don't send in their answers, I'll have to do their assignments; otherwise, our whole team will receive a not-so-good grade. It's definitely time for a glass of wine. Ciao.

January Wake-up

2012-01-09T18:48:00.000-05:00

Yep, it's that time again. The beginning of another semester. A few days of maneuvering around, trying to coordinate classwork and homework and assignments, and to get to know the professors and what they want. And it's all online. Sometimes I feel like I'm all alone in the universe, stretching really hard to hear, but there's no one there. I like online classes, but it's kinda weird when you have no idea what your professors and classmates look like and sound like. It's all okay. I'll get used to it again. I always do.

Merry Christmas and all that jazz

2011-12-20T17:25:00.001-05:00

There seems to be an underground movement to rename "Happy Holidays" as "Merry Christmas" - the way it used to be back in the 20th century. When Merry Christmas became Happy Holidays I don't know, but as my niece Grace said: "Can't it be both?" Amen. (Or is that too Christian?)

Yeah, A New Life

2011-12-15T17:54:00.000-05:00

The move is over, the semester is finished, and now I'm hangin' out in my new "digs," as everyone is calling my new home, listening to the airplanes leaving Tampa International Airport, filled with people going somewhere. Me, I'm just staying here. Well, mostly. I just came back from a short camping trip at Fort DeSoto with my dog Sully. We had a great time! Sully trudged through the waves on Dog Beach, playing with the other dogs as much as they would let him because they had been playing together for awhile and they had their games going on. I was amazed that he walked right into the water, chest-high, and that he attempted to play with other dogs. He's not very social and normally doesn't care for dogs coming up to him and sniffing, but Dog Beach, well, that was his breakthrough. I hope to go back to Fort DeSoto sometime soon.

Movin' On

2011-10-24T20:40:00.001-05:00

After 11 years, I'm moving out of my house. I had no idea I was such a pack rat. OMG. Stuff everywhere. Packing, packing, packing. And that's not to mention all the stuff I've sold, given away, and left for the garbageman. Boxes everywhere. My cats and my dog Sully are understandably nervous. I'm nervous, sore, exhausted, stressed, blitzed. All the people and businesses that need to know I'm moving. Too many. Gonna miss the hood in some ways, but not the house or the loud music or the loose dogs or the garbage or the police helicopters circling over my street. I will, though, miss Max and Molly, the two Havanese dogs who live next door. I first met them when they were tiny puppies. I wonder if they'll miss me. I will miss the lonesome howl of the train a few miles away. I will miss the magnificent trees canopying the streets. I will miss the walking convenience to Publix, Walgreen's, my mechanic's shop, the local library, Ella's Americana Folk Art Cafe. But, hey, life goes on. This is just the beginning.

I summited Mt. Everest!!

2011-10-07T17:37:00.016-05:00

Yep. I summited Mt. Everest. And I did it without camping for 50 days at base camp and above in order to acclimatize. I did it without fear of frostbite, hypoxia, cerebral edema, pulmonary edema, and mountain altitude sickness. I did it without the aid of oxygen or ropes. I didn't develop a cough or lose my appetite or worry about dehydration. I didn't even have to wear long underwear, heavy-duty boots and down snow gear, or carry a 40-pound backpack. And there was no traffic jam on the way to the summit. No. None of that. And, even more amazing, I summited in less than one minute. No five-day climb from advanced base camp for me. You may call me a liar, but I tell you it's true. I stood on the summit of 29,028-foot Mt. Everest . . . via Google Earth. It was awesome! Of course, it wasn't the same thing as actually climbing the mountain and standing breathless on top of the world, but it was still awesome, and I didn't have to pay $40,000-$65,000 for a guided ascent, with no guarantees of actually summiting.

wikiality.wikia.com

I was so jazzed by my Mt. Everest summit feat that I decided to try my prowess on the second highest mountain in the world, K2, known as the Savage Mountain and to many people, the deadliest mountain on earth. But my pal Google Earth said Huh? K2? So I gave a hint: It's located in the Karakoram mountain range, on the border between Pakistan and China, hundreds of miles northwest of Mt. Everest. Still a no-go. Oh, Google Earth, you let me down. Maybe next year?

9/11

2011-09-11T21:41:00.000-05:00

I'm watching archival 9/11 footage shot by a diverse range of people, professional and nonprofessional, on the History Channel. It's like it's happening right now, once again. I don't think anyone will ever forget where they were on September 11, 2001. The catastrophic events of that day will never leave me, even though I've never visited New York City or Washington, D.C., don't know anyone who lives in either city, but I suppose that doesn't matter.

Ten years ago today, at a little after 9:00am, I turned on the TV to watch Martha Stewart. The program wasn't on; instead there was a news report. At first I was perturbed that my programming had been interrupted, but then I listened to the news. Just about 30 minutes before, a commercial plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers. Just a few minutes before I turned on the TV, a second commercial airliner had plowed into the second World Trade Center tower. This wasn't a disaster movie. This was real and it was happening right now, live, in front of me, me who was sitting in my family room, still in my pjs, my bowl of cereal in my lap, uneaten. Even though I was thousands of miles away from the disaster, I didn't feel safe. Shocked. Nauseated. Tense. Scared. Totally not believing what I was seeing, yet drawn into the intense drama of life and death, of shock and awe in the truest sense. The scenes playing out before me on my little TV enveloped me, captured me, drained me, and I sat cemented to my sofa, watching, watching, watching, unable to look away hour after hour after hour.

Some of what the NYC observers said bothered me then, bothers me now -- the idea for the U.S. to go to the Middle East and blow up everything. I understand the anger of the moment, but not every Muslim is a terrorist, just as not every Christian is a fundamentalist willing to burn another religion's Holy Book. What happened on 9/11 is the work of a group of Muslim nazis who have twisted the words of the Koran to create their agenda of terrorism. It's not the first time that people have killed in the name of their god. This is not meant to minimize the death and destruction perpetrated by al-Quaeda on American soil ten years ago. But if we lose our humanity through hatred, then we're walking on the same path as the Muslim extremists who have lost all sense of what makes them human and humane. There is no god on this planet or in the universe who wants, requires, welcomes the death of humans at the hands of humans.

So, I remember 9/11, I live 9/11, I am 9/11 because it's now an inevitable part of the American experience. We can never forget, but hopefully we can move forward with the understanding that most people, of all religions, colors, world views, are spirits of light and we will prevail against those who create the dark hours of our lives.

Reminiscence

2011-09-03T21:05:00.002-05:00

This is my mother circa 1949. I wonder who she was back then. The only person I knew was Mother, but before her marriage and my birth she was a single young woman with dreams, goals, aspirations. What did she want, what did she do? Did she love chocolate back then the way I do now? Did she drink coffee, tea, soda, alcohol? Did she date often or was she a loner? Did she go to parties and flirt with the young men? Did she love to shop? Did she laugh a lot or was this photo special? Was she adventurous or was she cautious? Did she want to get married or did she do it because that's what she was supposed to do? Did she believe in a God who loved her or did she tremble in the belief of an unforgiving God? Did she understand that she was a creative woman? Did she know that she was beautiful or did she constantly worry about her imperfections? Did she want to travel the world or was she happy in a small universe? I'll never know the answers to these questions. My mother died almost 23 years ago and I never asked her who she was before I came into her life and changed it forever.

TGIF

2011-08-26T17:05:00.003-05:00

Like it being Friday matters when you're in grad school and already behind and it's only the first week. Sometimes life is so complicated. Some part of me wants a simple, straightforward life, but I create a zigzag trail wherever I go and that can be interesting because it blends a lot of ups and downs, quiet times and chaos, laughter and tears. Right now I'm on a path that seems to be heading toward a cliff; I guess I'll find out if I can fly when the time comes.

My dog Kodiak was an adventurer, always on the sniff for a new place to explore. Even in his old age, when he could still walk, if I left the gate open while parking my car in the garage, Kodiak was out and down the street, following the whims of his spirit. So different from my other dog Sully who used to venture only across the street on the rare occasion when he meandered outside the yard. But now, since Kodiak is gone, Sully sometimes travels down to the corner, sniffing the plants like Kodiak was wont to do. It's as if he assimilated a touch of Kodiak's personality. He's even humping the cats now, an activity that Kodiak used to enjoy.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm adventurer too but I don't know it. In my heart I travel the world, hiking across Antarctica, risking my life by climbing K2, boating down the Amazon, dog-sledding in the Northwest Territories, exploring Hong Kong and China, trekking through the wilds of Africa, RVing across the U.S. If I had the money, I would do all of those things (except climb K2 - I would hike the 330 miles from Askole to gaze at its magnificence but that would be as far as I would go). It's been said that money is the root of all evil. In recent years that can certainly be said to be true, but I believe also that the lack of money keeps people from realizing their dreams. After awhile, people just stop dreaming . . . and that is the death of the spirit.

So, even though I have to read many textbook chapters this weekend, as well as begin to think about what to do for all the upcoming projects, I like that it's Friday. I don't know why it matters, but somehow it signifies an end to the workweek that I no longer participate in. Friday means the beginning of fun, even in a grad world filled with work. On Friday, and the ensuring weekend, I can lazily dream about harsh and beautiful places like Antarctica and K2 while I'm safely ensconced in my house with the leaking roof, reading about MARC and AACR2 (library science stuff). I continue to dream because one day -- you never know what the future will be -- I just might make my aspirations a reality. Hey, those hardy souls living on Antarctica could be looking to hire an archival librarian in 2013. Hmmmm . . . .

Old Dog Blues - The Final Chapter

2011-08-14T22:51:00.001-05:00

Kodiak died today at 11:21am. He was surrounded by people who loved him, as well as his younger "brother" Sully and his feline oldster pal, Oz.

Old Dog Blues Dilemma

2011-08-09T11:08:00.002-05:00

I don't know what to do about Kodiak. I was going to have him put down this week because he's 14, can hardly walk, barks a lot, and bites. He seems distressed, although he still eats well. He can't get up the three back steps so I paid a neighbor to build a sturdy wood ramp off the side, but Kodiak wouldn't use it the few times I enticed him onto it. He attempted to bite me each time when I tried to him maneuver on the ramp. So he slept outside for two days because I have exhausted and hurt my body pulling him up the steps; I had surgery on my chest on July 27 and I'm not supposed to be lifting anything heavier than a half-gallon of milk. Ha. Kodiak weighs probably around 60-65 pounds, considerably heavier than a half-gallon of milk.

My friend's son is a veterinarian; I asked him to come over and examine Kodiak as best he could. Last night, Carl the vet gave Kodiak a steroid shot to reduce the inflammation in his arthritic front legs and hip dysplasia in the back, which is causing the lameness. He also gave me pain meds for Kodiak. Today, Kodiak can't get up, can't walk at all. Sometime between 2:30 and 6:00 this morning, he may have injured himself getting up and getting down the step into the kitchen where his favorite water bowl is located. Or it could be he's not tolerating the steroid shot. So, it may now be time to say goodbye. I was hoping to avoid that for awhile, but the time may be now. Kodiak hasn't stopped barking since 6:00am and it's noon. Maybe it's time to call Carl the vet once again.

Sleepy Saturday

2011-08-06T09:18:00.000-05:00

It's so quiet in the hood this morning. Love it. The TV is on, low and soft, offering various PBS travel programs. The windows and back door are open, letting in the fresh morning air. The toads are eating the leftover cat food by the back steps. My dogs are sleeping on the floor near me. My nomadic cats are who knows where. The sun is lighting up the sky but not yet baking the earth. I have eaten toast for breakfast, enough to fill me and give me energy for the day. The fans are rhythmically whirring, circulating the interior air. This is one of those perfect moments in life when just being is beautiful.

This is Sunday

2011-07-24T22:29:00.005-05:00

Friday was the last day of the summer semester. I'm still exhausted from the final push, but, hey, I did it. Not bad for a chemo brain girl. Looking forward to the fall semester! Should be fun learning about archival work.

Today I went to church. I had to say goodbye to one of my back pew buddies. Peter is moving to the east coast. I'm sad. Now it'll just be us wild girls at the back. Life brings change. Life is change. Just gotta go with the flow. As Reverend Debbie says, Surrender early and avoid the pain. Amen.

Today I visited the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts where I have a photo on display in the members' show. Lordamercy, there are some tremendous photos there! But what is really interesting, at least to me, is there are a number of photo entries this year that are on my same level - beginner. Usually my photo is at the bottom of the pack (in my opinion - no one has actually said you suck). Hey, I just might get good at this. That's my game plan, anyway. Keep on taking photos and photography classes and one day I could actually be a fine photographer.

Today I washed my dogs. Hallelujah. It did get kinda scary when my old dog Kodiak couldn't get up. I washed him while he half-laid down on the driveway, but when I was done cleaning him as best I could (he gets cranky now in his old age and the biting I trained him not to do is coming back, so I couldn't move him around), he tried three times to get up and fell back down. His back legs just wouldn't hold his weight, and I can't pick him up because, even though he's lost weight, he's still heavy at about 60-65 pounds. After a few minutes, he rallied and hobbled toward the back door, with my encouragement, but it took me another 10 minutes to haul him up the three back steps. We kept misstepping and then he'd collapse and unless he helps me when I haul him up by his harness, I can't get him up the steps. I gave him lots of water and treats when I finally got him inside the house, where he soon fell fast asleep . . . and me with him not too long after.

Today I watched "Ice Road Truckers." Cool show. I sure couldn't do what those men and women do. Driving a semi hauling a trailer filled with supplies for towns at the edges of pure wilderness in the frozen winter lands of Alaska and Manitoba -- not for little Florida-Sunshine-State me. No siree.

That's it. It's almost 11:30pm. And I'm fading and it's raining and it's time to go to bed.

P.S. Something weird is going on with Blogger and spacing, so I give up.......

WahWahGirl

2011-07-14T09:28:00.000-05:00

It's a nice, quiet, sunny morning - soon to be a nice, quiet, HOT, sunny day. I'm in the throes of the end-of-the-semester-BIG-papers-and-projects-due blues. And I'm wearing down. I guess this means tons of chocolate to keep my poor little brain, body and spirit going. It'll be a sacrifice but I think I can do it.

That's all I have to say because I'm supposed to be working on a team project due today which is worth 30% of our grade. Lordamercy. Sometimes I wonder just what the hell I'm doing with my life. There sure better be a great job at the end of this long and expensive two-year ride in grad school.

Stormy Weather

2011-07-07T14:38:00.003-05:00

The storm is coming. My cat is calling. The fan is whirring. And I'm eating chocolate.

Frustration City

2011-06-26T17:24:00.002-05:00

I'm participating in a Mindful Stress Reduction study for cancer survivors and I have homework which entails meditating and being aware of my life's events during the day/night - not just being simply aware, but being really in the now, experiencing, feeling, listening to all the nuances of what is going on. This past week, however, I would gladly have spent drunk, oblivious, out-of-it because the now was too stressful (grad school, ailing computer, aging dog, raging heat, bad cats). But, as the intrepid life traveler that I am, I carry on, drunk - no, frustrated - yes, angry - yes, but I still place one foot in front of the other and I keep on walking forward. But sometimes I just don't want to be the 'good' responsible girl anymore. Sometimes I just want to take what money I have, get in my car, and go. Just go. Run away. Far away. Change my name. Become someone else, someone who perhaps smokes, drives too fast, eats french fries every day, lives in a one-room garage apartment, works at a simple no-brainer job, watches reality TV and soap operas, drinks beer and gets drunk every weekend. I don't know what it is but there's something inside me that would never let that happen. Damn.

Melting in Tampatown

2011-06-15T17:16:00.004-05:00

On TBO.com, it says it's currently 91 degrees in Tampa, but it feels like 102 degrees. Amen to that one. So how many sequential days now has the temperature reached above 90 degrees? Ten? Twelve? Eternity? Sometimes I wonder if I'll make it to November. I can understand how people can die from the heat. And if the scientists are correct in saying this is a direct result of climate change and we had better become accustomed to it (along with colder winter temperatures and wilder, more ferocious storms), then I gotta change my life. This is the last time I live in a house without central heat and air. I freeze to death in my home when the temperature plummets to the 30s and 20s, and I can barely breathe in the overwhelming heat in the house in the summer. What a tortuous way to live....

I'm jumpin' in right now!

LOL

2011-06-12T21:43:00.002-05:00

Sunday morning. I stumble outside to retrieve my newspaper and my hungry cat. Bring them both inside. Unbundle the newspaper, open it to the front page...and then I laughed. The Tampa Tribune headline says (in bold black letters): Putting Florida back to work? And underneath the headline is a photo of Governor Rick Scott, known not-so-affectionately in our household as The Terminator. On May 26, he signed a state budget that eliminates 4500 state jobs, 1300 of which are currently filled. That's 1300 more people standing in the unemployment lines. And we know Scott isn't too fond of the unemployed. After all, he was in office barely five minutes before he was telling the unemployed to "try harder." Try harder at what? Trying to get hired for jobs that don't exist? And now, of course, there are thousands of school teachers who are getting pink-slipped. Who knows how many of them will be hired back for the fall. It's also been estimated that 8400 construction jobs were obliterated when monies from a transportation fund went wandering elsewhere, perhaps to legislative pet projects...or are those included in the nasty special interests Scott is adamantly against? Who knows.

Yeah, it's true that Scott has traveled out of the state in an effort to entice businesses to relocate to Florida. But what kind of jobs is he bringing into the state? Are there enough skilled unemployed to fill them? So far, most of the companies coming to Florida are aviation-related. Don't think too many school teachers would be qualified for those jobs. I know I'm not. What I do know is that I'm still laughing. Governor All About Jobs? Uh, don't think so.

Sleepy Night

2011-06-06T22:43:00.001-05:00

It's mostly quiet right now, except for the buzz of crickets, the whir of a floor fan, the intermittent growl of a helicopter prowling the skies in another neighborhood to the east. Not mine tonight. For that I'm thankful.

It's been a long, hot day full of minutiae, some of it grad school stuff, some of it real life stuff like paying credit card bills. I'm beyond tired. Skipped my Tai Chi class earlier and crashed on the bed, until the mean grumbling of thunder woke me up from my two-minute nap. Rushed outside, stumbling into walls, in a valiant effort to save my drying undies from the promised onslaught of rain...which never came. Not in my neck of the woods, anyway. For that, my plants are not thankful.

Tomorrow I get my aging eyes checked because I need new reading glasses. My grad school professors have scheduled tons of reading for us summer students and my eyes hurt because I'm using the kind of magnifying glasses you can buy at Walgreens. How lovely. I must think I'm still young and can get away with things like that. I was young once but I guess that doesn't count.

The helicopter is back and flying over my house. What has someone done tonight to bring out the police helicopters? It's dark and still and my bed is calling me. Okay, it's not really talking to me because if it was, I'd be long gone by now, flying out of my haunted home, which, by the way, is still housing the Biggest Spider in the Universe. Sometimes I hear something skittering in my bedroom when I switch on the light. But I'm not afraid. No sir. Ain't afraid of the Biggest Spider in the Universe. Not one bit. Not one tiny bit. No sir.................................

If I Only Had a Brain

2011-06-03T12:47:00.000-05:00

This is my third week of grad school - summer grad school, short, sweet and speedy. My brain hurts from all the reading, especially since there's still some mind-numbing chemo traces rummaging around in my brain tissue. And it's hot. Yes, it's hot, outside and inside. Nothing like reading scholarly textbooks in a house that's almost as torrid inside as it is outside. Thank God for my roof; otherwise I'd be a french-fried Library Science grad student.

I appear to be the oldest student in the one class I have that isn't totally online. We met in May at USF and tomorrow we'll all meet again to train in the reference interview, among other things I suppose. There's only one male student; the rest are all females ranging from those in their 20s to those in their middle-age years. My only hope, once I finish grad school, is that there will be a job for me in a library somewhere. Most of my competition, so to speak, is a lot younger than me. Some are already working in libraries so I guess they're all set for jobs, but the rest of us - well, it could be a free-for-all, unless some of us move to places where there are no universities offering Library and Information Science master's degrees. That will most likely be me. Pack up the furry kids and off I go -- to a new life as an archival librarian...somewhere.

Old Dog Blues

2011-05-26T23:14:00.003-05:00

Kodiak is 14 years old and I watch him, aging at first in small increments but now it seems as if the old age anvil has struck hard. Can a dog fall into his late senior years suddenly? I don't think he's having fun anymore. His eyes are distant; he doesn't connect with me the way he used to. Lately he hasn't been able to climb up onto his favorite armchair. His eight-year-old "brother" Sully argues with him a lot; they don't play like they used to. There appears to be a gulf between them that can't be mended.

I wonder what's going through Kodiak's mind. I know he's partially deaf, his hip dysplasia is crippling, the arthritis in his front legs painful. I give him glucosamine and a multi-vitamin every day. I give him doggie aspirin when I think the hurting may be too much. I used to believe that he's still enjoying life, but I don't know anymore. (Of course, the current temperature is in the 90s and our house doesn't have central heat and air, so there's no real relief from the unrelenting heat except for a couple of hours in the evening when I turn on the three expensive-to-run window a/c units. Kodiak may be suffering from heat exhaustion more than anything else right now. I know the heat is affecting me that way.)

Kodiak is my first dog. I adopted him at eight-weeks-old from the Humane Society of Tampa Bay. I still remember the Humane Society associate placing him on the counter - a fat little tan/black puppy with floppy ears, part German Shepherd, part Chow Chow. The tiny black collar I bought for him was way too big. I still have it. I look at it sometimes and wonder how that collar could have been too big because Kodiak grew to be almost 80 pounds. He was house-broken, trained to leash, and accustomed to riding in a car, all at eight weeks old. Amazing. He came to live with me in a house full of cats and kittens where he developed a fun relationship with a little white tabby mix kitten named Mitten. Kodiak would drag Mitten around the house with her head in his mouth. I tried to stop this strange activity, but they both loved it and continued it until Mitten became too big for Kodiak to drag. As he grew older, he became like a surrogate mother to many of the cats and kittens. He would clean their faces and their rear ends. He would swat at them if they were being obnoxious. He let the ones with mother issues "nurse" and knead on him. He thoughtfully chewed off their whiskers, in an attempt, I assume, to make them look pretty. He slept with those who wanted to cuddle.

Even though he was surrounded by cats, young Kodiak still understood that he was a dog, the protector of the household, and he took that duty very seriously. He was also quite the iconoclast -- plowing through overgrown grass taller than he was, digging out the foundation corner of the house as well as the gas pipe protruding from the ground, standing in the rain beside his doghouse, looking a cow right in the eye without flinching (until it moved too close), hanging out by the fountain in Old Hyde Park Village, going to parties where he gently let toddlers place cookies in his mouth, becoming aggressive with any dog in fight mode, becoming friends with any amenable neighborhood dog, chasing kitties that weren't part of his household, riding shotgun in the car and loving it, exploring new places and parks without fear, declining water adventures (the shoreline was fine with him), taking his owner for walks, accepting into his house a 3-month-old puppy found wandering the streets of the hood, teaching this puppy how to do male dog things, understanding bath time as inevitable-why-fight-it, finding the perfect spot by the fence to dig a nice comfortable hole for relaxing, and welcoming human guests into his house with a hearty bark (while trying to push Sully out of the way).

Now, we're in the old dog years where sleeping, eating, and eliminating are the adventures of the day. This morning I took Sully for a walk and Kodiak could have cared less. He didn't whine for his turn, not even a whimper, not even a glance at his leash. Maybe it's just a bad day. Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe tomorrow Kodiak will throw off some of those creeping years and take a walk with me, even if we just get as far as the end of my neighbor's property. That's something if you're 14 years old and all your neighborhood pals in the Old Dogs' Club are dead but you're still managing to get up and down the three backdoor steps by yourself most of the time. Yep, that's something indeed.

Old Cat Blues - The Final Chapter

2011-05-18T17:16:00.002-05:00

The saga of the 15-year-old deaf cat kicked out of her home because she peed on clean clothes in a basket has come to a conclusion.

Her name was Magic, but all the magic in the world couldn't stop the last of her nine lives from ending. My friend found her one morning about 10 days ago, dead in the street, killed by a hit and run driver. My friend, who has an aversion to anything less than beautiful, couldn't bring herself to pick up disfigured Magic and lay her on the grass, so her daughter and her boyfriend removed Magic from the street and laid her on their property. The daughter and her boyfriend knocked on the door of the house belonging to the neighbors who basically sentenced their cat to death and told them what happened. The couple did nothing about it, and it was left to the daughter and her boyfriend to bury Magic in my friend's backyard.

I didn't find out about this until I walked down to my friend's house with food for Magic. The cat had been dead for a week and my friend hadn't told me. Her daughter, holding her baby son, gave me the sad news. I was angry at my friend and almost livid with the neighbors across the street. I yelled at their house when I left, but they didn't hear me. I'm angry with myself because I didn't go down to where poor Magic wandered from human to human, trying to find food and love, and pick her up and bring her home with me. I'm angry that I didn't call Animal Services on those ugly-spirited human owners and report the neglect and abuse of Magic at their hands. I'm angry that Magic was left to die on the street, alone, at night, across from the home where she once lived and in front of the home where she wanted to live.

Happy Mother's Day

2011-05-08T16:49:00.000-05:00

I have ignored Mother's Day for the past 22 years. You can't buy a card or give flowers to someone who is no longer on this earth. But today is different. Today I decided that I can honor my mother even though I can't call her or see her or touch her. Today, I eat sushi and drink red wine for her because I believe that's what she would have liked on her special day. Wherever she is, I hope she can savor the delicate taste of the tuna/salmon sushi with tamari sauce and enjoy the Red Truck merlot in its crystal glass. Here's to you, Mom! Happy Mother's Day!

Living in the Hood

2011-05-02T22:02:00.004-05:00

I suppose this kind of behavior is everywhere, but it's fairly prevalent in my neck of the woods. It's 10:45pm and the people down the street are hanging outside in their front yard, some of the adults sitting squashed on their minuscule cement front "porch." A car is parked sideways on the lawn, doors and windows open, blasting loud music with the inevitable pounding bass so many individuals are so fond of these days. Toddlers and kindergartners are running around, hollering. It's 10:45 on a Monday night. I know these people aren't thinking of their neighbors at all, that maybe the man next door has gone to bed early because he has to get up early to go to work, that maybe the guys across the street would like to enjoy a tranquil evening with books or their own music, that neighbors down the street (like me) have to work late on a project and need a quiet environment in which to concentrate. What kind of people are these that have no consideration for anyone around them? Why do they think it's acceptable to be so loud and obtrusive this late at night - actually, at any time of day? I don't understand this kind of ugliness. I guess you could say it's a different culture, a different way of living in the world, but, to me, it's just plain rude, crude and unattractive (as us middle class kids used to say when we were young and innocent in Canada).

Birthday Girl

2011-04-29T22:33:00.001-05:00

My birthday is almost over. It's been a wonderful day - beautiful weather, a day spent with my boyfriend at the Hard Rock Cafe and Casino. We were wild kids! We gambled on a two of the countless machines in the building and won $11.75. Yep, $11.75. We're outrageous, I tell ya! Now, I begin a new journey into a new decade. It's difficult to believe that I'm getting older, that I'm beyond young, that I'm almost at the end of a difficult physical (and mental) life-threatening challenge, that I'm still floundering with the what-will-I-be-when-I-grow-up conundrum, that when I look back so many things seem so long ago and that's kinda scary.

I only have 30 minutes left and then my birthday is over for another year. I like it that Prince William and Kate Middleton decided to get married on my birthday. It's a good day for a monumental birthday and a globally-celebrated wedding. Yep, it's a good day.

Old Cat Blues

2011-04-27T21:33:00.006-05:00

My friend lives down the street from me, just a few blocks away, but sometimes I think we live in different worlds.

The man across the street from my friend is living with a woman who, a couple of weeks ago, became irate with her 15-year-old deaf cat, kicked her, chucked her outside, and left her to defend herself against the forces of an outside environment. The old cat's crime? She peed on clean clothes tossed into a basket. At least, this is the story my friend tells who, in the past, has been known to exaggerate, confuse the facts, and/or sometimes make up her own version of the event, not in a malicious way but in a dreamy, forgetful and creative manner.

The old cat (who is nameless at this point) has decided that she wants to live with my friend, but my friend isn't amenable to another feline addition to her family. She says she's not feeding the cat because she doesn't have the money to feed another cat. (She feeds her outside cats dry food in one bowl - what's one more mouth to feed, really?) The owner doesn't appear to be feeding the cat either. My friend said today that another neighbor is feeding the old girl, but that cat is soooo thin and she cries constantly when she sees a human, rubbing up against legs and following whoever is nearest. So, today I walked back to my house (after my long walk with my friend) in the hot noon sun and brought back a can of cat food for the old cat. She dove into that bowl like she hadn't eaten in too many days. She inhaled that food. I gave my friend what was left and asked her to feed the rest of it to the cat in the next couple of days. She took the can in a snit like I had just asked her to do something extremely difficult and time-consuming that would interfere with her busy, busy, busy life. (She's retired and mostly hangs around her house.) I wanted to slap her. An old deaf cat who was kicked out her own home came to my friend for help and my friend is ignoring the situation. She didn't pay for the can of cat food - I gave it to her, I who have no income whatsoever - and I will continue to bring food to that old cat because I'll be damned if I'm going to let her starve in the shadow of a woman who seems at times not to have a compassionate soul, even if she claims to be a Buddhist.

Earth Day

2011-04-22T14:46:00.001-05:00

Hey, Happy Birthday, Mother Earth! Hope you're having a great day in the universe. Hope us humans aren't treating you too badly today. You've given us a beautiful day here in the Tampa Bay area. Hottish but not humid. Sunny, cloudless sky. Fabulous beach weather, that's for sure. I saw a couple of University of Tampa students lying on the grass in a small campus park, their young skin soaking up your rays. They'll be all tanned and looking like surfer girls by the time the spring semester is over. I wonder what's in store for them in their dreamy futures. I hope lots of good things happen for them. I wonder if they realize that today is your day. Maybe that's how they're celebrating you, Mother Earth, home to all of us who live on your land, fly in your sky, swim in your waters. I think we humans forget that you are not immortal, that you can be damaged beyond repair, but I believe you are strong and I believe there are enough of us changing the universal consciousness of conquest so that there will still be Earth Days to celebrate thousands of years from now.

I Heard The Bird Sing

2011-04-21T11:15:00.001-05:00

This morning, as I was gathering dead twigs in my front yard to deposit into the trash can, I heard my Chirpadee calling from somewhere high above me in my neighbor's far-reaching oak tree. I thought he was dead. I thought my cat killed him. But he's alive, and that makes me happy. I don't know why. He's just a small wild bird I've never seen but whom I've heard early in the morning (around 6 a.m.) for years, trilling in a loud melancholy voice, all alone out there in the quiet of my sleepy neighborhood, sending his message into the still-darkness of an emerging dawn. There's never an answering call from another bird. Just him, alone.

I missed his voice, but now it's back. Did he go on vacation for a week? Did he lose a territorial war to find himself relegated to my westside neighbor's yard instead of outside my eastside bedroom window? Did he decide to move next door, after all these years we've been together? What's up, little Chirpadee? I'll never know. That's the thing about wildlife - they move on or die, and I never know what happened, but I miss their presence in my yard because a little bit of wildlife in my urban world opens up the parameters of my "civilized" human spirit, allowing me to experience the wildness in me that I left far behind in my childhood.

Vicodin Wednesday

2011-04-20T13:51:00.002-05:00

Last night I was tired of being in pain from my mastectomy, the neuropathy in my fingers and feet, and my jaw (I must be clenching my teeth unconsciously), so I swallowed a Vicodin. Pain go away, yes. Sleep, yes. Wiped out today, oh yes. The Lost Wednesday. I am doing laundry (OK, the washer and dryer are doing the actual work) so I feel like I'm accomplishing something worthwhile, but on the scale of big world things, that ain't nothing. Oh, and I watered some outside flowers, and I did a couple of newspaper crossword puzzles, and I made gluten-free pancakes (from a box) and ate them and they tasted pretty good, which I wasn't expecting because a lot of gluten-free stuff tastes awful. Now, my old cat Oz is trying to sit on my laptop because he says laps are for cats, not for strange technical things. (He gave up and is now hunkered beside me on the sofa.)

Today is a semi-cloudy day. Maybe that means it won't be as hot as it was yesterday when my ankles and feet became swollen (one of the delightful aftermaths of my chemolife) by early evening. I'm not used to being unhealthy. Swollen ankles, numb tingling fingers and toes, pain in the chest and under the arm, runny nose, popping ears, wishy-washy taste buds...wahwahwah. I'm ready, more than ready, to be a whole human being again, a person who doesn't take Vicodin, a person whose brain fully functions, a person who can just do what she wants to like she did before cancer came a-knockin'.

Leaf Dog

2011-04-19T11:57:00.003-05:00

Tis the season for shedding leaves, even if it's spring. My driveway is full of fallen soldier leaves, most of them looking like shriveled prunes. And my dogs - a couple of bushy-furred guys with long waving-in-the-wind plume tails - love to bring 'em on home. I think it's kinda funny to watch my dogs Kodiak and Sully trot into the house (okay, Kodiak the old one doesn't trot - he hobbles in), depositing a trail of dead leaves throughout the house. I think it's kinda funny until I have to sweep the floor for the gazillionth time that day. And the dogs seem to have hired additional help in the leaf-leaving department in the form of my indoor/outdoor cats who also bring in dried leaves and twigs and the occasional spider web. I sweep and sweep and, lo and behold, there are still leaves in the house. That's not so bad I guess; it's like having nature come and visit you in your house because while I'm sweeping or hand-picking up leaves off the rugs, I listen to the wild birds chirping and singing and calling through my open windows. I can almost believe that I'm living out in the country on acres of land, surrounded by tall lush trees that offer homesites for birds and squirrels. I can almost believe I'm living my dream.

Wednesday Night

2011-04-13T21:04:00.000-05:00

Okay, I have to run my garbage can out to the curb, but there's a police helicopter flying around and around and around searching for bad guys. When I first moved to this neighborhood, I would go outside in my front yard and try to see what was going on, but when I found out that a wanted man was hiding in the tall bushes in my neighbor's yard while police cars blocked off my street and the helicopter bellowed in the sky, circling my part of the hood, I no longer go outside to see what's going on, especially these days when criminals aren't afraid to shoot cops, let alone normal people like me. So, I sit safe here on my back-room sofa, listening to the police helicopter circling like a predator and my cat Parker hollering at me through the locked burglar door, wanting his evening snack. Who knew life could be so exciting.

Spring, Spring, Spring

2011-04-11T13:03:00.002-05:00

It's April, it's spring and I like it! I have been diagnosed as cancer-free, the weather is just perfect, the backyard birds are chirping, my cats and dogs are napping, and I'm finally writing because I'm beginning to feel like a human being once again (a skinny, bald, unemployed human being but a human being, nonetheless).

I attended church yesterday for the first time since mid-December. It was soooo good to be back and my friends there welcomed me back enthusiastically. I drifted during the meditation part of the service, but I'm sure I'll get back in the groove before long. Greg the bassist is gone from the church band. So sad. I'll miss him. But he's on my Facebook page so I can still keep in contact with him.

I love looking out my office window and seeing all the close-by scenery - the still leaves of my ancient orange tree (it's the last one standing in a now long-disappeared orange grove on which stands my house); the blue jay cleaning its feathers on one of the orange tree's branches; the pointed leaves of my grove of rafus palms that continues to march across any open spaces year after year; the jagged top of my tall, withered wood fence separating me from my new neighbor; the bits of blue sky spied through the branches of my orange tree and the huge oak trees belonging to the properties just east of my home. If I could live in this beauty and (currently) human-silent world forever, that would be heaven.

Yadayada

2011-01-19T10:56:00.000-05:00

It's sunny today, still a bit cool, but it's only morning. I look forward to the 70 degree predicted high for this afternoon. As much as I love the Pacific Northwest, I am not a cold weather person. I love warmth, I like heat (up to a point), I adore sunlight. I want to wake up to a sunny sky, not a gloomy grey sky. I want to walk around town with the sun's heat on my back. So, I let go of my dream of moving back to the Pacific Northwest. The terrain there is unbelievably beautiful, but the fall/winter weather is too long, too rainy, too cold for these Floridized bones. I guess I am finally a Floridian.

To those of you who have indoor/outdoor dogs and/or cats: Do you ever feel like an animal doorperson? Open the door to go out, open the door to come in, open the door to go out, open the door to come in...ad infinitum. What I want to know is - where's my tip? I mean, after all these years as doorperson, I'd be a millionaire by now if these darn animals would tip me. Life sure isn't fair sometimes.

We have a new governor in Florida. A total non-politician. A self-made man who, if Mama can be believed in a campaign ad, grew up in the projects and went to become CEO of his own company. A company which apparently defrauded Medicare, among other things. The one thing about non-politicians is they don't understand how politics works in the tsunami also known as the Legislature. It's a complicated machine that you can't change overnight, if ever. Some of the stuff our newly minted Governor Scott is saying is sooooo out of touch with the political coggery and the real everyday world of the normal Floridian. He wants to deregulate the insurance industry. How insane and downright stupid is that? We're gonna get even more screwed than we already are. I hope this new governor learns fast; otherwise this state will be strangled and left for dead. The next governor (I doubt Governor Scott will be reelected in four years) will have to resurrect us from the ashes. Florida used to be a really wonderful state to live in. What happened?

Well, that's it. Ciao.

Train

2011-01-17T16:27:00.002-05:00

Bellowing in the depth of the night

I listen, burrowed under a thick blanket

in the quiet of my home.

I am still.

You are moving,

launching your lonely call out

to anyone who will hear it.

You are traveling.

I am caught in a sideswiped life.

But the heart of me follows your howl,

like a nudged-out member

of a mountain wolf pack searching

for family.

And then you are gone

and I am still here,

sheltered under my blanket,

missing your distant wailing in the night.

2011 Begins

2011-01-03T17:03:00.000-05:00

A new year. Often welcomed with a sense of hope that the next 365 days will be a whole lot better than the last 365 days. For me, I plan to take it just one day at a time. No monumental dreams and goals, except to get through the next 6 weeks of chemo, and then possibly surgery. And when my taste buds come back, get out of my way because I'll be dashing to Ella's for a Boring Burger. YUM!!!!!!!

Okay, maybe I cheated a bit on the 2011 goals - I would like to be more active outdoors: canoeing/kayaking, hiking in the woods, visiting various dog parks with my dogs (to also get them out of the house and exercising), walking more often, maybe even hike part of the Florida Trail. I would like to visit Apalachicola because it's supposed to be old timey Florida. I would like to get visit other Florida places like Homosassa Springs where I can swim with a manatee. I might even check out Key West again - haven't been there in decades. I have never been to Sanibel Island, Honeymoon Island, Caladesi Island, Cedar Key, Tallahassee or Pensacola. I could spend the whole year just exploring this state I've lived in for 40 years. It's amazing all the things you don't do because you think you have all the time in the world and there's always tomorrow. Any catastrophic illness or event kinda shakes you out of that malaise, that's for sure.

So, 2011 begins. Yeah, I may have a cold/flu bug coursing through my veins (left over from 2010) but it will not define this year. One day at a time....

A Sideswiped Life

2010-12-26T20:17:00.000-05:00

I've been trying to think of a name for my journey with cancer. I used to say "in my real life," meaning my life before cancer. But I've decided to call my cancer challenge my "sideswiped life" because that's exactly how I felt when that clinic nurse said to me, "You have cancer." Just three words that changed all my immediate plans. Three words that have kicked me, scared me, wearied me for the past five months. Almost half a year. It's gone by fast and for that I'm happy. I still have 6 more weeks of chemo (4 treatments) beginning January 4th. Can't wait until it's done, finished, complete.

I've signed up to continue with grad school at USF beginning January 10th. I'm hoping I have enough energy, enough chemo-fogged brain cells, enough good health to tackle all the reading and assignments. My life has been sideswiped long enough. Of course, it will all depend on what happens January 4th when I begin the new chemo regimen. What these drugs will do to me worries me; I'm worn out by chemo and its side effects, and I really want to move on with my life. I'm looking forward, though, to recovery of my health, my dreams, my goals in 2011.

I Miss Food

2010-12-05T14:36:00.000-05:00

I haven't written in awhile because right now my life is consumed with getting through chemo and its side effects, and I just didn't want to concentrate on that subject. But I will give a quick update, now nine weeks into chemo: I'm almost bald (I refuse to shave my head because of a weird superstition that if I shave off all my remaining head hair, the rest will follow); I still have most of my eyebrows and eyelashes; I'm often nauseated; I still have energy and can take care of my house and animals and do errands; I developed a very bad sore throat that now has become an throbbing ache; my taste buds are trashed and everything tastes awful to purely nasty; I have a constant weird aftertaste in my mouth; I'm losing weight; I've had a cold for 7 weeks; I have to shoot myself in the thigh 3 days a week with Neupogen to increase my white blood cells; after 8 weeks, I dropped out of the clinical trial I was participating in because I could no longer swallow the pills; my eyes water and get crusty; and sometimes I get downright cranky.

Out of all this, though, I miss the good taste of food. I find it hard to eat when what is going in my mouth tastes bad-to-the bone. Any type of meat or fish protein is like eating out of a used kitty litter box. Horrendous. Wheat and rice products -- almost as bad. Pudding, jello, soup, fruit, lettuce - all ugh. I can eat raw cucumbers and tomatoes for some reason; they taste half-decent. I make a smoothie in the morning comprised of almond milk (I'm lactose-intolerant), brown rice protein powder, unsweetened cocoa, and half a banana; it also tastes half-decent. Unless something changes, I guess I'll be as skinny as a supermodel in the near future. Too bad I won't look like one.....

2010-09-18T18:35:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was all about the cancer thing. First, there was more blood removed by an unfriendly woman with issues who jabbed the needle into my arm and drained 3 vials of blood from my body. Then it was time to have my port inserted. Now, I've been tested, scanned, drained of blood, punched with needles, cut with snipping needles, and had medical conversations with doctors and nurses on numerous occasions for the last two months, but after all that there was a small part of me which still believed the whole cancer scenario was a nasty nightmare and one day soon I would wake up. But yesterday I came totally face-to-face with reality - I really have cancer. It's not a nightmare. It's not someone else's life. It's not a TV drama. I have cancer and the port hiding under my skin is proof. I can't escape it. Today, I am sad. I don't like this. This sucks. This is not the life I had in mind. And now, what do I do? Where do I plant my life now? That is definitely something to think about.

Monday All Day

2010-09-13T18:57:00.000-05:00

I had a good day today, even if mostly what I did was go grocery shopping. I bought a roll of 35mm film to see what I can do with my old 35mm camera gathering dust on the shelf. I used to take decent and somewhat arty photos with 35mm film because the camera is simple and manual. My photos with my little digital camera are simple but I can't seem to find the artistic edge to them that I like. I guess that's why it's almost a given that photographers now manipulate their digital photos in Photoshop. I still want my photos to be au naturel, with maybe a touch of cropping sometimes. I'm just an old-fashioned girl, I guess.

I visited my friend today too. We ate fresh pineapple on her porch while her plethora of outside cats and kittens played in the yard. The felines like me because I bring them canned food. When I decided to walk home, five of her cats followed me no matter which direction I tried to go. She finally tricked them into thinking they were going to get fed in the gazebo where she feeds them twice a day so I could escape.

My friend doesn't know it yet but I'm going to see to it that at least some of her cats get spayed and neutered. She won't do it, for financial reasons she says, but I think that's just plain out wrong. So, for the cats' sake (especially the females who have had several litters - most of the kittens died), I'm going to spay/neuter one cat at a time as the money comes to me. That will make me feel better, knowing that those cats aren't going to keep reproducing, which will shorten their lives. So I'm asking God and the heavenly spirits beyond right now for spay/neuter money. Are you listening? It costs $40 per cat at Animal Coalition of Tampa. Are you listening?

I started writing a short story today for a Writer's Digest contest in December. I haven't written a short story in years. This oughta be interesting because it's actually a short short story contest. The maximum word count is 1,500 words. That's like 6 pages at 250 words per page. Yikes!

This week is a busy one on the cancer journey. Support group, acupuncture, heart test, blood test, port insertion. The port kinda freaks me out. There's going to be this strange contraption under my skin that will be attached to my aorta. It's almost science fiction. I'm going to be this person with a tunnel to my main source of life. Makes a girl wanna eat chocolate, so I think I will. Right now.

Tired in Tampa

2010-09-06T21:04:00.000-05:00

I'm dragging. I put one foot in front of the other and I go on, but I feel like sleeping for a very long time. Only sweet dreams allowed. Me, quiet and still like a cat. In the peace of the darkness.

2010-09-02T11:14:00.000-05:00

Tired today. Up all night, reading about cancer, searching for a new place to live, filling out short sale paperwork. It's noon and I'm crashing. Even chocolate can't stay the heavy hand of sleep.

Tomorrow is a long day -- two ouchy biopsies and a mammogram spaced awkwardly between noon and 3:30pm. I also have to come in earlier to talk to a clinical trial coordinator at Moffitt. I could think of more exciting things to do on a Friday. There's a small, quiet part of me that still can't believe that I have cancer. Can this be a parallel universe I've stumbled into and if I find the worm hole that I fell through, can I climb my way back into my former world of no-cancer? Cancer has derailed my plans, yet life goes on. I have a contract on my house after it being on the market for 11 months. The dogs, cats and fish still need to be fed, litter boxes cleaned, house swept, yardwork done, bills paid, etc. I just received a summons for jury duty 20 years after the last one. Of all times to summon me...I petitioned on the grounds of chemotherapy to be exempt from the fun and games of the justice system. We'll see.

It's a beautiful day today. Sunny, coolish (compared to a week ago), humidity low. And I'm too tired to enjoy it.

Train Beckons

2010-08-28T23:06:00.001-05:00

This morning, as I waited for my fellow classmate to pick me up for a Saturday morning class, I stood at my open front door, anxious because my classmate was late and tired because the vehicle was revved up, so to speak, but the foot was still on the brake. Then I heard it -- the sweet bellow of a train traveling away from where I stood. The promise of somewhere else, the excitement of new places, new adventures, clacking down a track going who knows where. Wait for me. Let me jump on your back. Take me far from my new world of cancer. Let me feel the wind in my hair (while I still have it). Let my eyes take in all the passing towns, the farms, the cows, the open lands, the woods, the roads, the cars waiting impatiently at the crossroads. Wherever you go I go. I will be the vagabond, the free spirit, the home-free girl in Levis and t-shirt.

And then my classmate pulled up in her hybrid car and it was off to class. Goodbye, morning train. Another day, another time. I am always listening, waiting for you.

And The Beat Goes On

2010-08-24T16:02:00.002-05:00

It's amazing how cancer invades your life in more ways than one. First, the shock of the diagnosis. And then all of a sudden, a massive machinery of doctors and tests begins to crank up, and now I am Test Girl -- bone scan, blood draw, thoracic x-ray, breast MRI, lymph node ultrasound, yet another mammogram, CT scan, more breast biopsies, and injections. Doctors, nurses, nursing assistants, interns, appointment setters...and the list goes on. It's just mind-blowing.

Apparently I have stage III invasive ductal carcinoma. The only good thing is its estrogen and progesterone receptor positive and HER-2/neu negative. That means that the cancer should respond easily to hormone therapy. The plan (if nothing else has been cancerized) is for me to take chemo for 4-5 months before surgery to see if the tumor shrinks. I am also going to agree to be part of a clinical trial that apparently is having good results so far.

And into this drama comes news today that I have an official bid and contract (as soon as I sign on the dotted line) on my house, which has been up for sale for 13 months on a short sale basis. This would be fabulous news, except that I don't have a job and I'm not going to grad school this semester so no school loan. Sometimes you just have leave things up to God, so, God, this is all yours!

I see this an end to my old life and a gigantic push into a new life, the one I've always dreamed about. I intend to walk forward with love, peace, and faith.

Monkey Mind

2010-08-15T13:05:00.003-05:00

The Buddhists call it "Monkey Mind" -- that naggling voice that terrorizes you when you decide to follow your heart's desires. Are you nuts? it says. You can't do that. You have to be practical. What are you going to do for money? How are you going to live? Why are you doing this? You can't do this. Well, in the Unity Church we say to Monkey Mind, "Thank you for sharing but I'm going to do this anyway." So, I say to my personal Monkey Mind -- who is screaming bloody murder right now as I drop out of USF and grad school in the Library & Information Science department and go in search of an MFA program in Creative Writing (which I wanted to do in the first place) -- "Thank you for sharing but I'm going to do this anyway."

I have a magnet on my refrigerator that quotes Henry David Thoreau: Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. Pretty words. I've read them over and over again while I was lolligagging in the kitchen and thought if only that was possible. Well, sometimes it takes cancer to kick someone in the butt, to get them moving in the direction of their dreams. I've been kicked.

This is the gift brought to me by my cancer.

Life Goes On

2010-08-09T12:35:00.002-05:00

I like to forget that I have cancer, but it's not something you can forget for long. Today I received some good advice from a woman 15 years younger than me who has just finished her cancer treatment - keep busy. It helps you to live a normal life, helps you forget for a little while that there's an army of errant cells in your body creating mayhem in your tissues and organs. It's good advice. But it's late at night, when the world is quiet, that the voice of cancer whispers into my stillness just before sleep: I have breast cancer. I can feel the lump but I don't know what's going on deep inside. So, I've begun an herbal program to cleanse my body. I didn't get this cancer out of the blue. While I wait for Moffit to call, I will do what I can to help my body build strength.

Even though I have cancer (and sometimes I would like to lay down on my bed and just stay there forever, safe in my secluded room), the dogs, cats and fish still need to be fed, the litter boxes still need to be cleaned, the house swept, vacuumed and dusted, the dishes washed, the laundry done, the lawn mowed, etc. And I'm the only one who can do it so I do it. In two weeks, grad school starts up again and I wonder if I will have the continued mental capacity and the physical stamina to tackle the work. (I'm lucky that my classes are online so I can do a lot of my work in pjs if I want to.)

And even though I have cancer, my mortgage company will still foreclose on my house if I can't sell it and I'll have to move, probably by Christmas. I need to move, though. I need a house with central heat and air. Living without it has become more difficult through the years and I'm sure that my sweating from the heat in my house after my biopsies contributed to the severe reaction I had to the Tegaderm tape used to keep my bandages plastered to my sore chest area.

Life goes on. I would like it to stop for awhile so I can become peaceful with what has happened, but it doesn't. The activity of life didn't stop after my mother died, it didn't stop after my father died, it didn't stop after my best friend Miriam died, and it's not gonna stop just because I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I am one of millions of women who have (and will) march down the road from illness to wholeness.

Should I Say It?

2010-08-05T21:02:00.000-05:00

There's a theory that if you don't say something out loud, then it can't truly claim you. So I wonder....

Well, I'm going to say it out loud -- Here goes:

I have been diagnosed with breast cancer. I know it's real because I have a pink umbrella given to me by Clarence, the man coordinating the county/state breast and cervical cancer program of which I'm now a part of, a program for middle-aged women without health insurance, a program that will save my life.

I'm afraid of those words -- breast cancer -- but I have my family, my friends, and the new man in my life who will help me through what's coming. And from what I hear, I will be well taken care of by the doctors at Moffit Cancer Center, which is my next step in this challenging journey.

I don't have much information other than I have ductal carcinoma. The more comprehensive details will come from the testing done at Moffit. And so I wait, wondering what's going on in my body. Is it growing still, this cancer which became a lump that wouldn't go away? Is it spreading its wings, ravenous for juicier territory or does it still quietly, confined to one milk duct, like a constipated poison?

Sometimes I forget that I have this cancer in my body. Sometimes I am just the me I was before the words - you have breast cancer - were spoken to me on August 3rd by a midwife in a county clinic full of children awaiting shots they need for school. And then I suddenly remember: I am a different person, a person whose simple plans for the next year -- grad school and a move to a new house -- are complicated by a war within my left breast. I haven't cried much. I don't know why, other than the fact that I have decided to face this totally unexpected occurrence in my life with the strength and spirit of a Marine. I learned this from the new man in my life, an ex-Marine (although there truly is no such thing as an ex-Marine) with two tours of Vietnam carved into his life experiences.

So, I live my life one day at a time and I have fun, even though I am shadowed by darkness. The story will continue, the life will continue, I will continue.

Waiting Game

2010-08-02T08:37:00.002-05:00

Wait. Wait. Wait. That's what I'm doing. The new fall semester at USF starts in 3 weeks and I still don't have my final grade from the one lone summer grad class I managed to complete.

Wait. Wait. Wait. I had a couple of painful physical tests done a week ago and I'm still waiting on the results, although it's one of those dealios when I may not want to know the results.

Wait. Wait. Wait. I still haven't won the Florida Lotto or Powerball or whatever game. I'm still waiting on my financial windfall. Yeah, yeah.

I'm also still waiting for magic, for a genie to mow my wild front yard grass.

Oh well, guess I'm gonna have to mow the grass myself and keep on waiting for grades, results, luck....

On the Road Again

2010-07-29T20:08:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I wrote more than 1100 words on my novel-in-waiting. Today I managed about 645 words. This is a good thing. My novel-in-the-making has been gathering dust for far too many moons, and now it's not. My goal is to finish it by the end of August.

I can't even remember when I began this story. Now that's sad. But when I finish this -- my first novel -- even if it never gets published, it will be a victory over my lack of commitment to my writing. This novel will always be like my newest love. . .forever special. Of course I would like it to be published and to be wildly successful, but sometimes just the doing is the best thing of all.

Just a moment ago I realized that when I write creatively, when my fingers fly (or, often as not, stumble) over the keyboard, I feel fulfilled. My life is rounded, nice, good. And now that there's a new man in my life -- something I never expected to happen -- this road I'm traveling on is finally beginning to be a road I want to be on.

Burning

2010-07-28T19:17:00.001-05:00

The tape on the bandages covering my surgery sites burned my skin. I'm not kidding. I look like a knife-wielding maniac sliced me open in several spots. It's painful too because the skin is gone and all you can see is my red and inflamed flesh. The tape is called Tegaderm; it's created by 3M, the same company that makes the tape you use to secure packages. And apparently these burns are a regular occurrence on folks who have an unfortunate allergic reaction to the transparent tape. Now, on top of recovering from the surgery, I have to tend to raw flesh and make sure nothing becomes infected. No wonder I try as hard as possible to stay away from doctors and anything conventionally medical.

Ouchy Me

2010-07-27T09:27:00.000-05:00

I experienced a wee bit of surgery yesterday. The nurse offered a Valium and I took it. Good stuff, at least as long as it lasted, which wasn't long. I was going along just fine until the local anesthesia wore off. Then it was ouch, ouch, ouch. All afternoon, all evening, all night ouch, ouch, ouch. A Tylenol here and there helped some, except Tylenol makes me nauseated for whatever reason. My favorite OTC drug of choice -- aspirin -- is not allowed. So, I guess all an ouchy girl can do is eat chocolate. Yeah.

Lazy

2010-07-22T13:10:00.000-05:00

I should be working on my final grad class assignment for the summer. I should be researching stuff on the Internet and in books. I should be assimilating information to be distilled into an essay. I should be concocting an A+ term paper. I should be. . .but it's too hot and my back hurts and chocolate is calling me. Amen.

Sad Day

2010-07-17T15:35:00.004-05:00

I just learned that John, my dog Kodiak's godfather, the one who helped babysit him when he was a puppy and I was living in a drug-infested neighborhood, died Wednesday sometime in the early morning hours. On Tuesday he and his wife Janice came to my house so I could type a letter for him (they don't have a typewriter or a computer). John looked fine, seemed like his normal self, and apparently had enough energy to do errands and then mow the lawn when he got home later that evening. He most likely died of a heart attack in his sleep; the coroner will do an autopsy sometime in the next week or so.

It's so surreal that a person can be talking with you, laughing with you and then be dead several hours later. To say I'm stunned is an understatement. I've known John and Janice for 15 years. Fifteen years. Janice has lived with John for 37 years. Thirty-seven years. What is she going to do now? And what about his dogs, Precious and D.J.? And what about his son who lives in the Czech Republic, where John (originally Jaroslav) was born and raised?

How do you go from thinking of people as a couple to thinking of just one? Just Janice. Alone in the house she shared with her husband for 25 years. I can't even imagine it. One good thing in her favor is that she has a strong relationship with her sisters and their families as well as her mother. And there are her friends like me. We'll all help her laugh again.

Rest in peace, John

Happy Thoughts

2010-07-15T18:24:00.001-05:00

It's storming outside. It's storming inside, but I'm gonna think happy. It's hard, but I'm trying. I should eat some vegies and protein; that will help my brain exude happiness. I'm gonna need it because tomorrow could be a scary day or a beautiful day, depending on a few spoken words.

Just Another Day

2010-07-08T17:39:00.001-05:00

No rain today, so I mowed my overgrown grass, such as it is, even though I pulled my lower back on Monday and I'm still crimping along. I also finally finished reading the longest textbook chapter in the universe. Hallelujah. And I did 4 loads of laundry as well. How about that for multi-tasking?

Yesterday, as I drove over the Howard Frankland Bridge, I saw a dolphin in the bay swimming lazily in the calm waters. I saw hawklike birds sitting on the tall bridge lights. I saw massive white marshmallow clouds floating ever so slowly in the sunlit sky. All this on a trip to the dentist.

Tomorrow, there's a trip to a health clinic and then to the mall. I need a new pair of Levis. Well, I guess I don't need the Levis, but it sure would be nice to have a new pair of jeans. It sure would be nice to be healthy too. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.

Love in the Hood

2010-07-06T19:54:00.001-05:00

It rained again today so I waited until about 6:30pm to pick up my mail. I found a small soggy index card crammed into my picket fence gate. There was a handwritten note on it, which said:

Now, my question is: Are you feeling the love? Because I'm not feeling the love. And my guess is this note was written by my neighbor across the street who complained about my cats pooping in her yard, the very same cats who are now imprisoned on my front porch and have been so for the last couple of weeks. The church mentioned in the note is the church she attends and, believe me, there is no love in that church. Once long ago she invited me and I was appalled by the ignorance parading as godly wisdom shouted out from the pulpit by a preacher who has no business being a preacher, if you ask me. Women do not deserve to be raped, no matter how they are dressed, and white people are not the sole embodiment of evil incarnate that leads young people "astray," whatever that means. So, following on the heels that kind of thinking, I guess I am evil and to be hated because my cats pooped in someone else's damn yard. Now I'm just thinking out loud here, but don't you think there are more important and more substantial things to focus on than to surreptitiously vilify a neighbor over a feline feces fracas that was resolved weeks ago?

Today I Like Rain

2010-07-05T18:11:00.001-05:00

Woke up to rain. Normally I don't like to wake up to rain. I want to see sunlight drifting through my sheer curtains, beckoning me to get up and get on with my day. But today there was rain. Not the hardcore rain we sometimes get here (especially in the last few days) but just a light rain. Grey skies, quiet, rain pattering, the occasional call of a bird.

But when I came out of my bedroom, one of my dogs had peed and pooped on the wool area rug in the front room and the other (or perhaps the same one) had peed on a sisal rug in the back room. And my cat Paquita had once again peed outside the litter box. Did I miss the memo? During the early hours of July 5th, was it mandatory to poop and pee in places not considered politically correct by humans? Or was it an experiment to see just how much stress one middle-aged unemployed woman in grad school could handle?

So, being of sound mind and body and armed with chocolate, I ran away from home. Got in the old BMW and took off, fast, on the interstate, in the rain, going nowhere, just going. I finally slowed down when I had to inch past a couple of badly crumpled vehicles on the ramp heading to I-75. But, man, it sure was nice to fly down the road in a low-slung Beamer, speeding into the grey, the rain, the possibility of somewhere else far from my life.

I came home three hours after I left. So much for running away. So much for freedom. So much for dreams. It was time to clean up the mess that was left behind.

And It Rained

2010-07-03T18:34:00.001-05:00

The one thing about west-central Florida is so often when it rains, those storm clouds hanging threateningly in the sky, waiting for the perfect moment of heat and cold to meld, just literally open up the belly of the whale and let it rip. Ploughing through sudden lakes in the middle of the street in a car just a few inches from the asphalt is nervewracking--for me, at least. Some people ram through the water like they think they're driving a tank, sending waves roaring over other cars. No consideration, but so what else is new in this me-world we're all surviving in?

At least, today through all the torrential rain and grey skies, I have the relief of knowing that cop killer Dontae Morris is now in custody. Maybe there will be answers, but answers won't bring back Officers Curtis and Kocab.

Today was a good day for the rain.

Requiem all over the place

2010-07-01T13:50:00.000-05:00

Death has been having a field day lately.

On Monday my sister Helaina's ex-mother-in-law died suddenly after falling and hitting her head, which somehow ruptured her stomach lining. She never woke up from surgery. On Tuesday morning, one of my cats killed a female cardinal who had flown into my garage. He broke her neck and punctured her tiny skull with one of his fangs. On Tuesday evening, my sick Betta, Snow, died while I held her in my hand near the top of the bowl water in order to help her breathe her last breaths without panicking. And, early Tuesday morning (I found this out Tuesday evening) during a routine traffic stop, two Tampa police officers were gunned down and killed by a 24-year-old with 18 arrests in his criminal file. One officer leaves behind a wife and 4 young sons; the other officer's wife is 9 months pregnant with their first child. What I want to know is how a young man with 18 arrests in 6 years is still walking free in the streets of Tampa. Does 'career criminal' mean anything to anyone in the justice system?

Sometimes I think that creating a life on a deserted island like Tom Hanks' character in "Castaway" just might be a beautiful existence. Peace and quiet, no crime, no information overload, no paying bills, no pending foreclosure. True, there are no other humans to talk to, but I'm sure there would be the occasional birds nesting on the island and if there's water, grasses, flowers and trees, there must be some kind of animal life on the island. Hopefully not the "Lost" kind.

Guns and Crime

2010-06-28T15:40:00.000-05:00

This morning in the Tampa Tribune I read a letter to the editor, which stated that because Floridians are allowed to carry a concealed weapon on their persons, crime has been substantially reduced in the state of Florida. I don't know where the writer got his statistics; actually, there were no quoted statistics, just this bold statement. If this is true, I don't understand how legally carrying a gun in your pocket helps decrease crime. Do we have extremely timid criminals in Florida? Do they tremble at the thought that maybe everyone they see over the age of 25 is carrying a gun that might kill or wound them? Does this make the bad guys second guess their decision to rob, rape and hijack?

I'm not against someone with a permit wanting to carry a concealed weapon nor am I an NRA/Second Amendment proponent of arming every citizen. But to say that everyday people packing concealed weapons is the reason for decreased crime is just too outrageous. The writer is basically negating the vital work of each community's police force, as well as community leadership, intervention programs for kids-at-risk, and the many citizens who participate in neighborhood watch operations.

I hope the 729,000 Floridians with concealed weapons (the letter writer's lone statistic) are willing to kill if they decide to pull their gun from a jacket pocket or a handbag...because a long time ago a police officer told me that you should never pull a gun on a perpetrator unless you're willing to kill him.

The Case of the Intrepid Feline

2010-06-26T19:02:00.000-05:00

Little Guy, one of my cats held prisoner on the enclosed front porch, has never been one to be held back by the likes of human beings. When my next door neighbor complained about my cats in his yard when I first moved into my house 10 years ago, I tried all sorts of things to keep my felines in my yard. The electric shock wire across my fencing helped at first, but a grapevine began to wind its way along the 6-foot high chainlink fence between our properties and caused the electric shock wire to go dead (a safety feature). Neither one of us wanted to take down the pretty vine, so my next idea was netting on all my fencing (which is quite a lot). The creator's idea behind the netting was that cats can only jump 4 feet and then they have to climb the rest of the way. So the netting was placed as high as possible on the 6-foot fencing. It came complete with 18-inch long brackets that caused a one foot netting overhang to stop the cats from climbing over the netting. Well, that stopped most of my cats but it didn't stop Little Guy, Blackjack, Boy and a couple of others who could jump 6 feet. Others climbed up and found a minute weakness and tore the net apart and out they went. I was constantly fixing that damned netting. Next, I tried 18-inch high hard plastic screwed into the wood or tied with wire onto the chainlink fence at the top of the fencing. I don't know how the cats did it but they got over that too. After that (and hundreds of dollars), I gave up. If my neighbors wanted to call Animal Services, then that's what was gonna happen.

Now, because of another neighbor complaining about my roving cats (most likely just Little Guy), I have Little Guy and Jude imprisoned on the front porch with its many windows. Three times Little Guy has escaped the front porch. Most of the windows are shut; just a few are open a bit for some sort of air circulation. He found out one of the slightly open windows is broken and doesn't stay shut, so he pushed it open and off he went. I stapled cat-tough screening all around that window. (He just bends aluminum screens to get out.) But this week he escaped twice more. I finally figured out that he found out that another of the slightly open windows has an easily maneuvered handle, so he just pushes it with his paws or body until he gets it moving enough to open the window wider...and off he goes. Jude seems to accept his imprisonment and doesn't follow in Little Guy's footsteps. I guess it's time for more screening. But I have a suspicion that nothing will stop Little Guy from being the adventurer that he is. Somehow, someway, he will find a way out of his prison...and I don't blame him.

Requiem for a Raccoon

2010-06-22T17:16:00.001-05:00

The injured raccoon didn't escape back into its wild world entwined somehow with my urban landscape. It died sometime Saturday evening, I suppose, because when I opened my garage door on Sunday morning to retrieve my car, I was greeted by flies and the stench of rotting flesh. The raccoon had somehow crawled under my above-ground garage and succumbed to its injuries. I can only hope that it was not a prolonged and painful death.

Wild Day

2010-06-19T17:18:00.002-05:00

Yesterday afternoon I heard my neighbor's three little dogs barking and barking and barking. They just kept barking so I went outside to see what was going on. Through the six-foot chainlink fence I saw them staring at the pond, legs solidly planted on the earth, barking, but I couldn't see what they were fussing at because of thick foliage. I took a few steps in a northerly direction and peered through chinks in the wood fence.

A raccoon. In broad daylight. It was trying to get out the pond while surrounded by three barking Havanese dogs who weren't giving an inch. I shouted at the dogs to back away, which they didn't, but by me saying something to them it gave them pause and this presented the raccoon with some leeway to scramble over the side of the slate rock pond. About this time, the dogs owners came out to see what all the commotion was about. They managed to pry the females away but the male stayed where he was, barking at the huge raccoon who apparently was injured. When it tried to escape towards me and the wood fence, it dragged its right rear leg which was besieged by huge horseflies. My neighbors grabbed their male dog and the woman put him in the house with the females while the raccoon continued to try to escape, but I could tell it was in pain from its injury and from the flies biting it unmercifully. The poor thing would take a few steps, then lay down with its head to one side like it just couldn't go on, but go on it did. At one point it became stuck between stalks of closely jambed bamboo stalks. It opened its mouth in a silent scream and then lay down, tired, with its head to one side. My neighbor talked about shooting it to put it out of its misery...but thankfully that didn't happen. He eventually returned to his house and a few minutes later I could no longer see the raccoon through the chinks in the fencing; it had escaped. I worried about it all evening, alone out there in suburbia, wounded and exhausted, followed, no doubt, by those horrendous flies.

Then about 12:30am, as I was getting ready for bed, I heard a loud flapping noise at the window in the front bedroom. I couldn't see anything until I retrieved my flashlight. There, on the window a/c unit, was a juvenile bird, a cardinal perhaps because there was a reddish tint to its tail. It kept banging into the window, flapping its wings. So I decided that I should rescue it. I went outside with my flashlight, a towel and a bowl of water (in case I chose to leave it on the a/c unit, at least it would have water). When I reached the a/c unit, I placed the bowl on the top and reached for the bird. Well, it flew up into the bushes behind me and then up to the eaves, and then - I don't know what happened - it fell to the ground and my cat Blackjack was upon it within milliseconds. I didn't know he had followed me - a black cat in the dead of night on the unlit side of the house. I chased that darn cat back and forth in that big yard, hunting him with my flashlight. At one point, I found him under a bush, the baby bird still alive and still in his mouth. I'll never forget this: the little bird looked me right in the eyes and opened its beak in a silent Help Me cry...and then off went Blackjack, furiously fast and extremely silent. The next time I found Blackjack - under another bush - the little bird was dead.

And then to make a sad tale even sadder, a male cardinal I call Chirpadee woke me up at 5:30am calling and calling and calling from near the same spot where I first found the juvenile bird. I have to wonder if that little bird was his baby. It was almost full-grown, almost able to fly fully on its own.

Life sure can be cruel. I don't like that. Yeah, I know no one said life would be fair and that bad things happen to good people (and animals), but I still don't like it.

Tweetin'

2010-06-17T17:04:00.000-05:00

I just signed up for Twitter, but before I did that I read Twitter for Dummies. Okay, I know that's probably very silly, but a not-so-young girl can get afeard of all this monumental technology. Hey, I remember when there were no computers, y'know. Now, I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to do with Twitter, other than follow people and companies, and I'm not really sure why I want to do that. I mean, I have enough stuff going on in real life to command my attention and energy; it almost seems like I'm jumping from the frying pan into the fire.

I think I hear a beautiful, peaceful and lonely island calling me....

Cats in Prison

2010-06-13T15:00:00.001-05:00

My cat Little Guy has been convicted (without evidence, I might add) of pooping in my neighbor's yard and not covering it up. He has also been accused of sitting on her old car. So now he is imprisoned on my enclosed front porch with his buddy Jude, who also could be a culprit. And because the summers in west central Florida have grown increasingly hotter more consistently in the last year or two, the enclosed porch is basically an oven. There's a ceiling fan, a box floor fan and a small table fan trying to create some semblance of coolness, but by late afternoon I might as well cook those cats in my oven at 300 degrees.

I have had outdoor cats my entire life and nowhere, except in this neighborhood, has it ever been a problem. You would think people would be happy to have my cats keep the rat and mouse population in check because, believe me, when I first moved here 10 years ago there were plenty of rats and mice, as evidenced by the many dead bodies laid at my doorstep.

I also understand my neighbor's wish not to have my cats poop in her yard. I get that. I hate it when people let their dogs poop and pee on my property. I hate it when people let their dogs run loose and they come onto my property and kill my cats. I hate it when people let their teenagers loose and they become bored and decide to rob, steal and vandalize.

I have to say the older I get, the more I would like to live far from human beings. Just me and my animals, free from human rules and idiosyncracies. I suppose, though, being a human being myself that eventually I would miss my species and want to have a human conversation and a shared dinner or two. But perhaps if I just lived far enough away from humans to put space between their wants and my wants, that would do. Then, at least, Little Guy could be pardoned and he could return to his free-spirited way of being.

Hot, hot, hot day

2010-06-12T16:58:00.000-05:00

It's 97 degrees. 97 degrees. It was in the 20s this winter for a long stretch. Highly unusual. I've lived in west central Florida for decades. Ain't never melted in 97 degrees, ever. But today I am. And it's only June 12th. I can't even imagine what July and August are going to be like. Be afraid, be very afraid. What a year to live in an old wood-frame house without central heat and air.

Grad School Blahs

2010-06-10T17:32:00.001-05:00

Okay, I'm a quitter. I'm withdrawing from one of my two grad classes. That is, if I can ever figure out how to do it. I have to say USF website's lack of information on the subject of withdrawal is not making it easy. Does that mean that once you're a student you can never leave????

I'm not sure I want to be a librarian anymore. I'm not sure why I chose the profession in the first place, other than I love books (particularly fiction). But libraries are sooooo much more than books. I don't want to be a reference librarian. I don't want to be a children's librarian. I don't want to be a school or college librarian. I think, when and if I ever grow up, I wanna be Cormac McCarthy. He's not a librarian.

Color Gone

2010-06-05T23:23:00.000-05:00

Just saw photos of me from a family reunion of sorts here in Floridaland. OMG. Have I aged or what. You just go about your life, doing this, doing that, putting on a few pounds, losing a few pounds, growing grey hair, losing grey hair, working, not working, and then one day you see what you've become. That 16-year-old you thought you still were has died and in her place is a middle-aged woman. Nooooo! Not me, not me, not me. How can this be? How did this happen? When did this happen? I have a photo of my niece Alyssa and me when I visited Canada about three years ago. That middle-aged woman wasn't in evidence. What the hell happened to me during the last few years to cause such a change? Just too damn scary...because what's gonna happen to me in the next few years? This is something you can't run from. Yeah, I can spend thousands of dollars for plastic surgery but eventually it's all gonna come crashing down anyway. This is sad. I want to know who invented aging. Isn't there a pill somewhere that can fix this?

Wordpress Blues

2010-06-03T19:54:00.002-05:00

I don't know why but I tried to create a grad school blog on wordpress just because I wanted to try something different, I guess. Lordamercy. It is so damn complicated on that site. I have an old blog on wordpress that I haven't bothered with in years, yet that keeps coming up when I sign in and I can't find my new blog. So the hell with wordpress. I'm back to easy-for-me Blogger....Okay, I created (and deleted) a new blog on Blogger again because when, oh when, is Blogger going to add some new templates? They've had the same free ugly templates for years. Hey, Blogger, let's change it up! Now I know why I rambled on over to wordpress. At least they have a wide range of blog templates, even if navigation is hell. I think I should join the Cormac McCarthy school of writing - no blogs, no email, no websites, no computers -- just a typewriter in a creative environment. Sounds good to me....

Grad School Girl

2010-06-02T20:23:00.003-05:00

Who woulda thought that grad school could melt a brain instead of expanding it? I must have lost some brain cells along the way to middle age because I'm reading stuff and it seems to vanish before it gets into the cognitive section of my intelligence. I feel like a person running for a train that just left the station. Can see it, smell it, almost touch it, but, honey, it's gone. Hopefully, as I trudge my way through my first semester of grad school, I'll catch the train before it leaves me in the station, alone, bewildered, and not sure when - or if - the next train is a-comin'.

Quiet Saturday

2010-04-24T08:06:00.003-05:00

Sleepy. Tired from the work week. It's quiet, peaceful...at least for now. The only sound -- the faded distant howl of a train going somewhere.

My sister is in Halifax. She wants to move. Perhaps she will. I'm still here. No one wants to buy my house. I'm stuck here...at least until Chase kicks me out.

My cats and dogs are resting. This is a muted day. I have no energy, but this is the day I chose to spend writing my novel. I need to finish it. My deadline is so long past and still this novel is not completed. Oh, the lingering world of Jezzy.

Chocolate. Perhaps chocolate for breakfast will wake me up. I bought a book from Amazon - Making Artisan Chocolates - and when it arrives, a new chapter in my life begins. Chocolatier/writer/librarian. How crazy is that.

Missing my wildlife

2010-04-19T16:47:00.002-05:00

The little baby diving duck is gone. I look for him (her?) every workday but he is gone. Probably eaten by an alligator. I like to think he flew away to a healthier pond, but the last time I saw him he was in the water, turning this way and that, looking for the sign of trouble that sent a coot flywalking on the still water to a place of safety. I know life is full of challenges including death but I miss the baby diving duck. He was so happy just gliding along in the water, suddenly diving and disappearing in the murk, and then just as suddenly reappearing a few yards away, looking like he was having fun. If birds can smile, that little duck was smiling.

I know you're not supposed to civilize wildlife but I've been feeding an opposum for almost a year now. I saw him when he was just a baby stealing leftover cat food in the outside bowls. All alone. No mama, no siblings. So I decided to give him the food my cats and dogs didn't eat because I was getting a wee bit tired and angry to be dumping perfectly fine food in the garbage when my animals didn't want it for whatever the reason of the day was. So almost every evening (sometimes I forget) I put out whatever hasn't been eaten and if my animals eat all their dinner, I will fill a bowl with dry cat or dog food and leave it by the back door. Every evening between 8:00pm and 11:00pm my opposum empties the bowl. For the last three nights the bowl has not been emptied. I wake up and it's either full or half-eaten by my outside cats. The opposum never left a kernel of food; he ate everything like a good little animal. I wonder if he is dead, if my neighbor captured him and brought him to a park or wilderness area, if he is a she and is tending to babies somewhere, if he packed his bags and left to explore the world outside this urban neighborhood.

I hate not knowing but no one said there would be an explanation for everything that happens on this planet. I miss the still comfort these wild creatures give me. I miss who I am when I watch them.

Long Gone Sally

2010-04-09T16:27:00.005-05:00

Can't believe it's April. Time flies when you're frozen. I am sooooooo happy that our nasty, cold winter is finally over. Bring on the sun, bring on the warm. Yeah. And my loud, disruptive neighbors are gone too - kicked out because the house they were renting went into foreclosure. Now two men have bought it and they say they're gonna renovate it so it looks like an historic bungalow, and then sell it. All I've got to say is they have a long road ahead of them. That poor little house has been a rental for decades and it has consistently been rented to inconsiderate, loud, nasty, somewhat dirty people, no matter who owned the house. Right now it's so quiet. I love it. I'm enjoying the peace while I can because when the destruction and construction starts, the quiet will be gone. And when someone finally moves into the house, there will be people noise. But I will, no doubt, be gone by then, hopefully into a quiet, serene place where I can think and create and breathe.

no title because i don't wanna

2010-01-18T12:56:00.004-05:00

my life is not fun. i created this mess but so far i don't seem to be able to get out of it. they say money is the root of all evil, but without money you can't do anything. you're stuck in survival mode, and survival mode sucks. i'm too tired to think today. i managed to eat breakfast and vacuum, but that's it. my head hurts. my spirit hurts. i'm gonna go eat chocolate.........

Happy New Year

2010-01-06T13:56:00.005-05:00

Wow. 2010 and it's damn freezing and my old BMW may have an oil leak caused by going over a speed bump too fast because some idiot was tailgating me. So far 2010 is not impressive.

Not a good day.........

2009-10-28T17:57:00.003-05:00

My photos suck. I didn't know it until I participated in a photography critique held at the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts. Here I thought I was already on my way to National Geographic greatness, but I'm still a kindergartner with a little Canon Powershot. Kinda destroyed my dream of being a great photographer. Not that there's no hope. I just thought I was a helluva lot closer to it than I am.

October...and where's autumn?

2009-10-05T17:57:00.002-05:00

Hot, hot, hot. A few cool nights and nice, muggy-less days, but now it's back to hot. Not as humid as summer, though, which is a good thing.

I feel overwhelmed by all the communication avenues that grab us and wants us to blab, blab, blab. Are we really that important? Does what we have to say have to be so immediate? Texting while driving? What can be soooo damn important that someone has to yackety-yak with fingers while driving a 2 or 3-ton vehicle with their knees? Just so incredibly stupid.

My friend invited me to twitter with her, but I turned her down. Email me or, even better, call me so I can hear your voice. I'm on Facebook and there's a tremendous amount of nothingness being said. I don't even know what's going on half the time because people are quoting lyrics from songs that I've never heard of.

Simple. I want simple. A pleasant house on a large beautiful piece of property on an island or in a town far from the rush and mayhem of human denseness. Oughta be easy. Not so far, but I have faith.

A-Walkin' I Will Go

2009-09-23T18:00:00.005-05:00

A wandering view

downtown Tampa

I Knew Some Kittens

2009-09-18T13:30:00.000-05:00

Almost Mid-Month

2009-09-14T20:10:00.007-05:00

what I wrote disappeared trying to get this damn photo to be in line with the verbiage. why is that so stupidly difficult? why can't things be simple? no wonder we're all just bozos on the bus.

A Whole New Month

2009-09-01T12:22:00.001-05:00

OK, finally we're heading towards autumn. Of course, in west central Florida, the crisp cool weather actually doesn't start until December, but, hey, a girl can dream.

Today a potential buyer comes to examine my house. Only the second one in two months, which I guess is good these days. There are sooooo many houses on the market or in foreclosure to choose from. What's a buyer to do? I imagine whoever is coming this evening wants a bargain. We'll see. This house needs a lot of work.

There's a big fire out in California just east of L.A. where my brother lives. He's okay, but there are many people who aren't. I often wonder what happens to the wildlife when there's a fire in the mountains and wilderness areas. They're losing their homes too. If they survive the fire, can they just move into other animals' territories without a fight? Or are they destined to die in territorial battles?

Governor Crist signed a new gambling pact with the Seminole tribe that will add approximately $6.8 billion to Florida's coffers over the next 20 years. I wonder where that money will go. Hopefully to education, environmental cleanups and upgrades, and infrastructure improvements. Maybe now the Legislature can vamoose the idea of granting developers incentives to build yet more subdivisions, condos and malls. Haven't they figured out yet that more people are moving out of Florida than moving in and that there are thousands of empty houses and unfinished community housing projects? Makes no sense to me, but then I'm just an ordinary person, not a high-level politician.

And don't get me started on State Farm Florida and its plan to dump all of its homeowner's policies because the company says it's losing millions of dollars every month. Just drop all the million-dollar bonuses and then maybe you can start operating in the black, SFF.

I'm off the soap box now. Time to get going on my real life of novel writing.

The Last Saturday

2009-08-29T21:52:00.003-05:00

Today was the burial of Senator Edward "Teddy" Kennedy, the last of the Kennedy brothers. All gone now, the lions of democracy. It's like the last page of a great book and you don't want the story to end...but it does. And you have to go on but the story will always be a part of you because you loved it, cherished it, wanted it. The 60s are truly over now. But it's not the end of democracy. Not by a long-shot. I know there are people in this country who cringe at the word 'liberal,' as if those who believe in creating sanctuaries for wildlife, who believe that clean water and air are important, who believe in helping their fellow human beings are somehow wrong and deserve vilification. Ted Kennedy was a liberal and he never flinched from that label because he worked in the service of the everyday American. That's me.

Freakin' Hot Summer

2009-08-05T17:11:00.002-05:00

I'm melting and weary. It rained today, hard, so now it's coolish and I feel almost alive, but usually I'm walking like an ancient woman with a heavy-duty walker. Are my feet sticking in cement? Has my body gained 200 pounds? Is this why I can't move? Yadayadayada. So what else is new in a Florida summer?

Right now it's a little after 6pm, sunny and still. The animals are fed and everything's quiet. Ahhhhh.....

I Follow the Ducks

2009-04-22T16:31:00.007-05:00

I often take photos of the wild birds that make a retention pond their home. Even though the pond is situated in a parking lot belonging to a business/retail complex located on a busy thoroughfare, I find it an oasis from work, from people, from the noise of being human, from knowing my life is disappearing minute by minute in a sea of busyness. These are some of my "friends."

What My Cat Paquita Has to Say About the Economy

2009-03-25T12:20:00.003-05:00

Working Girl (sorta)

2009-03-12T17:11:00.003-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I started a seasonal job - the same one I had last year - reading and scoring FCAT essays written by 8th grade Florida students. It's fun, exhausting, and often difficult, and it's only temporary. What happens after it's over? My long search for a full-time, permanent (if there is such a think anymore) job has been a fruitless endeavor over the last 20 months.

Right now all I can do is put one foot in front of the other and carry on, while trying to find some meaning in long-term unemployment and possible foreclosure. But I'll tell ya, sometimes I just don't wanna think anymore.

Just A Thought

2009-02-13T23:56:00.006-05:00

Geez Louise, I just noticed that it's Friday the 13th and it'll be over by the time I'm finished writing this.

I thought it was just an ordinary day. It was just an ordinary day, albeit maybe a bit stressful since my cat Milla is missing.

Milla is a stray that I adopted six years ago. Before I could get her spayed, she birthed five beautiful babies, one of whom still lives with us. Sometimes I wish I believed in the concept of indoor animals. Sometimes I wish I would make my cats stay inside the house for their entire lives. Sometimes I wish I thought it was acceptable for my cats to be able to only enjoy the outdoors through a living room window. It's moments like this, when one of my cats is missing, that the thought of creating indoor animals draws me in.

But then, I see stranger cats watching me savoring the outdoors while they're imprisoned in a house, apartment, condo. To me they look sad. I know my cats would be safe if I locked the door against the God-given world of trees, birds, grass, dirt, leaves, mice, wind, sun on fur, warm cement, dogs, wildlife, rain, clouds, cars, people. Milla wouldn't be missing if I had kept her jailed inside my bungalow. But I feel that being an integral member of the outside world, exploring the aspects of nature and urban life, sensing the rhythm of the earth under the feet is worth the risk. After all, there's no guarantee I'm coming back alive when I drive away from my house. It's all part of living.

But that doesn't mean I'm not anxious, sad, and scared while I pray for Milla's safe return. It doesn't mean that sometimes I don't question my beliefs. The one thing I'm certain of in this life is that you can't escape your fate. It doesn't matter if you're wealthy or on welfare. It doesn't matter if you're a human, a domestic pet or a wild animal - there are journeys you can't forego or pray away or hide from. I guess it's all part of the Divine Plan For Those Of Us Who Live On This Planet. Who really knows. All I know right now is that Milla is not at my office door, meowing loudly because she wants to sit on my lap. Perhaps Milla's earth journey is completed. I'm just gonna have to wait and see.

In Search of the Perfect....

2009-01-26T14:25:00.002-05:00

Today is a warm, sunny, life-affirming day. So why am I cooped up inside my house? Good question. I'm tying up loose ends (free up my brain, y'know), cleaning (well, I'm gonna get to it eventually), paying bills (heaven help me!), and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life...or maybe just my life this week. It's kinda like a canvas; I can paint whatever I want, see what comes out, see if there's a footpath for me to follow or do I climb through the jungle and forge my own way. I guess I'll find out by the end of the week, the end of the year, and so on.

The Storm Cometh

2009-01-19T14:46:00.005-05:00

I wait in the afternoon to be swept away by wind, rain and darkness.

Goodbye

2009-01-17T16:06:00.007-05:00

My friend Jo Anne was 77 years old when she died on Thursday. She was a tough, outspoken, ever-busy perfectionist who loved life, traveling, and Shi Tzus. It seemed, however, that life was against her in the last month or so. In December, she had a biopsy on her left leg that came back as melanoma and her opthamologist told her she needed cataract surgery. On Christmas Day, on her way back from enjoying a wonderful holiday celebration with her cousin, she was involved in a car accident that totaled her Toyota. Ten days later she suffered a stroke while dining with a friend. Twelve days after the stroke, she died in a rehab center. She took a nap and never woke up.

I will miss her greatly. She could be persnickety but she was also funny, loving and generous. She leaves behind her two beloved Shi Tzus, Sweetie and Stormy, and all of us who loved and cared for her.

Holiday ByeBye

2009-01-04T15:26:00.003-05:00

Christmas has come and gone. New Year's celebrations have come and gone. Had a wonderful time during the holidays, and now it's back to real life. No more Christmas tree. No more Dick Clark and fireworks. It's back to job searching. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I think I'll win Powerball instead. That oughta do it.

Sunday Evening

2008-12-21T19:05:00.005-05:00

It's dark, my neighbor is nailing something somewhere, my cat Milla is crying outside my office door, the TV is spewing words and music from a movie, my heart is pounding hard for whatever reason, my lower back is aching, the crickets are cricking quietly, the floor fan in the next room is whirring softly, my dog Kodiak is calling for me because I left him outside, but other than that, it's quiet and peaceful and that is all I need.

People People Everywhere

2008-12-18T19:06:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I find it hard living in a city filled with people. Can't get away from them, no matter how hard I try. I imagine if I lived in the middle of nowhere in a far-flung state like Wyoming that I might be able to relax and find peace and quiet with no people around me, but not here. Not in Tampa. People are everywhere, and since it's Christmas, they're rushing everywhere. I don't know who invented the concepts of tailgating and speeding, but what I'd like to know is why it's so important to get somewhere 10 seconds sooner that people will risk an accident, or these days, make someone so angry they wanna kill you. I betcha I could find solitude in Maine in the winter. Betcha I'd freeze to death too, now that I've lived in Florida for decades. Oh well.

Ray Day

2008-12-09T23:18:00.004-05:00

Today I bopped around town, doing the errand thing - purchase the last Christmas gift at Starbucks, mail the Christmas cards, put gasoline in the car, visit an auto repair place to see if they can help me find the impossible halogen headlight for my old BMW with an aftermarket conversion kit, and go in search of Publix's new Greenwise Market hidden somewhere in Hyde Park (I found it - not your usual-looking Tampa grocery store - very urban).

Then I decided to drive to my favorite park and swing on the double swing, but instead I walked along Bayshore Boulevard. What a fantastic day! Warm, sunny, no clouds. The perfect winter day in west central Florida. Someone had, however, thrown beer bottles, Coke cans, food waste, broken styrofoam containers and assorted other garbage in Tampa Bay. It was just floating on the water like seaweed, like it belonged there. Made me want to jump in the water and gather it up and make the water clean again (as clean as Tampa Bay can get, that is). A little farther north of the lolligagging trash, I saw two dark points going up and down with the lazy waves. Curious, I walked toward the mystery. As soon as I approached the points, they disappeared. I waited. It's a beautiful day and I have all the time in the world since I'm unemployed and there's no rush to go anywhere.

A few minutes later, the dark points appeared and they were coming towards me, then they turned away. Up and down, visible, not visible. At a certain angle, perhaps illuminated by the sun, the mystery was unveiled. The points belonged to a small manta ray swimming slowly, searching for lunch perhaps. It was alone, its pectoral fins 'flying' gracefully in and out of the cloudy water. I watched it for several minutes, the black points here, then gone, then here again. The ray seemed so at peace, so at ease in its environment - unlike me who lives a zigzag, chaotic life for no other reason than I don't accept who I am. The wildlife-loving part of me wanted the little ray to come closer to me, perhaps so I could understand its strangeness, it being so different from me, but the ray had other ideas. So I let it go and walked away, back to my human existence with its worries about money, neighbors, house/car repairs, job searching, etc. etc. etc.

Christmas is Comin'

2008-12-05T15:48:00.004-05:00

Well, I've finished all my Christmas shopping and decorating.
Now I just have to wait for Santa Claus
to come slipping down my crumbling chimney.
Maybe he'll leave a few surprises for me, like a job.
That would be nice.
Ho, ho...HA!

Sad, Sad World

2008-11-24T00:26:00.004-05:00

Where, oh where, have the teddy bears gone? I went shopping today for teddy bears at Walmart and Target. Big mammoth national/international stores with hundreds of thousands of items, and between the two of them they only had a handful of teddy bears, in boxes no less. Who wants a teddy bear in a box? Teddy bears are supposed to be free, so they can be held, touched, looked at from all angles. How else are you going to get the perfect teddy bear just for you?

Last year Walmart and Target had teddy bears galore, but not this year. Why, I wonder? What happened to all the teddy bears? Do modern children eschew teddy bears for game boys and cell phones? Teddy bears are kind of like guardian angels. They protect you and keep you safe from the monsters under the bed. And perhaps even from the monsters who are leading this planet into chaos, war, and global warming. You can talk to a teddy bear about your fears and worries, and he'll listen and there'll be no judgements. A teddy bear will never leave you...unless your mother throws him in the garbage when you're 18 and you've left home because you think you're grown-up and you think you know everything. And then one day you find out you know hardly anything at all.

It's a sad world when you can't find a decent teddy bear.

Now I've Done It

2008-11-12T12:21:00.004-05:00

Today I signed up to take the GRE because I've decided to get an MFA in Creative Writing. The GRE. Oh Lord. I haven't taken an exam like this since the beginning of the Ice Age. And there's not a lot of time because the application deadlines for both USF and FSU are the beginning of January. I'm a little (OK, a whole lot) confused about this entire graduate school admissions process. I guess I should just email or call someone at the schools to help me, but I haven't because I don't want to sound like a dimwit. It's not easy maneuvering around these university websites. You have to go here, you have to go there, and then you have to go somewhere else. I personally like a straight line. Hmmmmm....instead of studying Creative Writing, perhaps I should be majoring in Architecture.

The Day After

2008-11-05T11:43:00.002-05:00

"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your night." Just a snippet of the powerful speech given by President-elect Barack Obama last night, November 4th, when he made history as the first African-American elected as President, as the first sitting member of Congress elected President since JFK in 1960, as the first Democrat to win the state of Florida in a presidential race in more than 10 years. All I can say is HALLELUJAH!!!

My niece Grace, a college student in Maryland, plans to ride the train to Washington, D.C. with her fellow college Obama supporters to witness President-elect Obama's inauguration in January. How amazing for her to be standing in the cold, in the crowd, watching history made right in front of her! This is her first vote, and what a time to come of voting age. Yesterday, she helped change the direction of this country with her vote, and I don't think there's anything in the world right now that is more exciting and deeply felt than that thought. You go, girl-after-my-own-heart!

Barack Obama may be the catalyst and leader for change in this country, but nothing will happen unless we, the citizens of this country, change our way of thinking and living. We can't decry the foreign dependence on oil and then go out and buy a gas-guzzling vehicle. We can yell all we want about the high cost of healthcare but until we realize that the insured pay for the uninsured, that eating a diet high in fats and sugars causes disease, that HMOs and PPOs run the healthcare industry to their benefit, we might as well be whistling in the wind.

As Mahatma Gandhi once said: "Be the change you want to see in the world."

Monday Blahs

2008-11-03T14:01:00.005-05:00

I'm walking tired today. I'm thinking there must be something more going on than just the vestiges of a flu gone bad. Energy seems to be evading me these days. Maybe I need some Geritol. (Does Geritol even exist anymore?)

This has been a long, hard year. Perhaps I can blame my listlessness and my shortness of breath on being worn down to almost nothing by a life that seems to be stuck in nowheresville. No matter what I do I run full-tilt into an invisible cement wall. It feels like I'm squashed under Mercury in quadruple retrograde. It's the strangest feeling.

But even if I'm a mashed bug in the universe, I still have hope that everything will turn out well -- my heart will begin beating in a synchronized rhythm once again and my legs will have the strength to carry me where I want to go. Sometimes hope is all a person has.