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Marie at 1 Write Way

  • Long Overdue Book Review: Rad Sick Record, a Novel by Michael Trammell

    October 30th, 2021
    Published by Hysterical Books. 291 pages.

     

    Imagine a world of endless Cold War, with the U.S. and Russia continuously threatening each other with annihilation. Imagine you are living in the panhandle of Florida during this time, an English grad student with a peculiar sensibility:

    “For me, I hear unheard voices, important ones. Hear how? By an inner ear as I read another’s words and sing them to myself. Through sound, I know what’s truly brilliant and what’s not.”

    You are one of the unfortunate to have been radiated while still in your mother’s womb during the The Accident aka Incident ’80. You were thus born with radiation sickness, which is why your body is rapidly aging, why you hear voices, why your eyes have a glow, and why you want to go where no one knows you.

    You are John Needle and you came up from south Florida to escape the notoriety of being “Rad Sick,” one of those “radiation sickness weirdos.”  While your relocation gives you new friendships and romances, you also find others like you, which is good and bad. You see, there are people who want to collect Rad Sicks like yourself, to control your preternatural abilities, to use you for their own nefarious plans.  Before too long you find yourself in the midst of a conspiracy on campus that involves a LSD-like drug called TallaTec and strange human experiments at the pool.

    Meanwhile, you romance at least two women, discover the natural and mysterious beauty of north Florida, and have long drunken debates with your college friends about the best places to submit writing. Your body might be 35 years old, but you think and act like a 20-year-old grad student.

    Rad Sick Record is written in the form of a diary, giving Needle’s story an intimacy and immediacy that well suited this strange but entertaining novel. Michael Trammell is also a poet, evident in how he weaves words together:

    “The Arctic cold must be brutal, so bitter they can’t think for the pain, are sick from it, noses raw like beef jerky. Freezing dew must stick to their hair. If sleet drummed atop the ships, the cold would become an encircling, unsolvable misery.”

    Trammel’s novel is not strictly science fiction or speculative fiction or a coming-of-age novel, or a thriller, or a romantic comedy. It blends all these genres fluidly, immersing me in Needle’s sometimes quirky, sometimes scary world. It is a character-driven novel, with a finely drawn cast that continue living in my head long after I put the book down. I highly recommend Rad Sick Record. The novel pushes boundaries in wonderful prose written by a talented and gifted writer. Once I dipped into T-Town with John Needle, I was all in.

    You can purchase Rad Sick Record on Amazon or Bookshop. You can also learn more about Michael Trammell by clicking here.

    –End of review–

    Confession: I know Michael Trammell. We were in grad school together at Florida State University in the early 1990s (the novel takes place in 2000). Michael was in the doctoral program, myself a lowly Master’s student, but we had a few classes together, including a fiction workshop with the late Jerome Stern. I didn’t see Michael again for years after I graduated, but I’ve always remembered him as a kind and honest reader in our workshop, a wonderful poet, and a really nice guy. When I next saw Michael in early 2020, almost thirty years after I had graduated, it was at a book reading for his wife, the poet Mary Jane Ryals. He mentioned having written a novel and planning a reading for the next month. Cue the pandemic. I believe he went on with his book reading, but by then it was mid-March 2020 and I was avoiding human contact as much as possible. I still got a signed copy of Rad Sick Record and promptly read it. My bad for taking so long to write a review.

    An interesting experience for me in reading Rad Sick Record was trying to identify people that we both knew. “Oh, I bet this character is based on Mary Jane and that other one must be Ron!” I think I might even be in the novel: “A woman beside me was clicking plastic sticks. No flip, she was knitting!” Maybe, maybe not. I remember I used to knit during some of my social work classes, but I don’t remember if I’d had the courage to knit in any of my English classes. Still, I like to think it was me.

    I always enjoy reading stories that take place in familiar locations, and this was no exception. Trammell’s description of the campus took me back the 90s when I spent most of my life in the Williams Building, a maze of stairwells and half-floors reminiscent of the Winchester Mystery House. As John Needle, he reminded me of the first times I visited the sinkholes and rivers of Florida, getting to know local flora and fauna. This added a layer of pleasure to my reading, but you don’t need to have been on the FSU campus in the 1990s to enjoy Rad Sick Record. The novel stands on its own.

    –Insert gratuitous cat photo–

    Raji and Junior snuggling on a lazy rainy morning.

     

    P.S. Maxine had her last checkup, at least for a month. Her creatine is down to 4.1, close to where it was before the craziness. Her urine is still clear so we stopped the antibiotic injections. She’s looking good, eating and drinking well, grooming more than most cats her age, and likes to lie on my lap when I’m watching TV. I like it too.

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  • Groovin’ On a Thursday Afternoon

    October 14th, 2021

    The Rascals beat out the Beatles as my favorite music group when I was growing. I had a major crush on Felix.

    Many thanks to everyone who commented on my Monday post and provided me with sage advice. Ironically (maybe?), on Wednesday, before I got around to responding to comments, I made myself work on my novel a bit. I wrote about 600 words. Then I rewarded myself by reading the comments. Surprise, surprise (to no one), most of you suggested I write about 500 words a day. Well, golly gee, I had just written 600! And then today (Thursday), I wrote another 982. I do believe I’m grooving. My daily goal going forward will be 500 words. If I’m inspired and write more, well, that’s icing. But if I write at least 500, I can stop guilting myself for having (and needing) other interests.

    Speaking of other interests and the multiple ways I’ve been avoiding writing, I forgot to mention exercise. In mid-July, my husband and I rejoined our local gym, and we have been faithfully going there three times a week, working out for an hour-and-a-half to two hours. We’re retired so we can take all the time we want. I’ve lost some weight and gained some muscle in the process. Given all that’s happened to my sister, I am even more focused on building strong muscles.

    And then there’s the bike riding, which we did Tuesday. What a beautiful day. And, as it was a weekday, we saw few people.

    This slideshow requires JavaScript.

    As it happens, when we go for bike rides, my mind wanders and often I think of my novel. That’s what I did on Tuesday so I was primed to do some writing on Wednesday.

    Your encouragement helped as well as it always does.

    A bit of good news before I close this post. Maxine had a checkup today and her creatine values have dropped yet again, to 4.4. Still elevated, but a hell of a lot better than 6.9. Her urine is still clear of bacteria, but the vet wants us to do two more weeks of the twice daily antibiotic injections. Apparently, that is the regimen. Who are we to argue? She promised that if Max’s urine is still clear after two weeks, then we can stop. We might even be able to reduce her subcutaneous fluids. The only real disappointing news is that now she has anemia so new meds (yay!) for the next two weeks. That cat is turning into a poster child for the pharmaceutical industry.

    But she’s doing good. She really is. She’s peeing and pooping in the litter boxes more often than not. She’s steady on her feet and generally trots to her meals (food is her reason for being). She’s still sleeping a lot, but not when there’s food around. I don’t have high expectations for her, as she does have chronic kidney disease, but she really seems to be enjoying a better quality of life than she was a month ago. We are grateful.

    Maxine chilling out after her morning with the vet.

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  • Life in Non Sequiturs and (Trying) to Get My Writing Groove Back

    October 11th, 2021

    In a New Yorker article (September 13, 2021), author Amia Srinivasan made this observation: “[…] the Internet, […] has simultaneously given us too much to read and corroded our capacity to read it.” The context was feminism and what we think we know about it, but her description of how the Internet has impacted reading applies far beyond her subject.

    It’s something I struggle with every day. So much to read, especially online, but also on my Kindle and my bookshelves, the dining room table and the living room desk where magazines pile high. And yet I’m supposed to be writing.

    I know I’ve been going through a stressful time. Which requires a couple of updates:

    • My sister’s cast was removed last week and she was fitted with a walking boot. She’s still at the facility, but she’s been having more good days lately than bad days. The facility change was definitely a good move. Still, the uncertainty as to when she’ll come home and what kind of help my brother-in-law will given as he continues care for her subdues my efforts to be positive. We all just keep saying, “One day at a time.”
    • Maxine, our feline dowager, has been more her old self lately. Spunky, willful, and talkative. She’s been handling our handling of the twice daily antibiotic injections and every-three-days subcutaneous fluids quite well. My husband has even been able to give her the antibiotic injection by himself, that is, without me having to hold her still. Unfortunately, she has “good” days and “bad” days: good days are when she limits her pee and poop output to a litter box or a potty training pad; bad days are when she and Junior get in a tussle and, in her excitement, she poops on the kitchen floor (this morning) or when she sits on the potty training pad but still pees on the floor (also this morning).

    I’ve been working through my stress not by writing, but by gardening (healthy activity) and binging on a podcast call Casefile (maybe, maybe not healthy). If you enjoy true crime stories (is enjoy the right word?), check out Casefile by clicking here. A few things I like about the podcast:

    • The narrator is anonymous. He wants the audience to stay focused on the survivors and victims in these stories; however, his fans call him Casey.
    • The podcast has no dramatic reenactments, no roleplaying, no editorializing, no aimless, mindless banter. Casey narrates in a steady, calm voice. Occasionally he narrates dialogue, which can sometimes be humorous with his Australian accent.
      • I say no editorializing, but Casey’s empathy toward survivors and victims is real. At the beginning of each podcast, he cautions the listener in case the crime is of a particularly disturbing nature, such as crimes against children. For example, I chose to not listen to the episodes on The Moors Murders because Casey admitted he had to stop recording a couple of times because he was so disturbed by the abuse done to the children.
      • He has, on occasion, expressed frustration with law enforcement responses (or lack thereof) to violence against women. But he doesn’t rant, he doesn’t rail. He just points out when injustice is being served.
    • The episodes do not focus gratuitously on details of crimes. Casefile only shares what is necessary to understand the seriousness of a crime, which doesn’t require a second-by-second account of an assault or a murder.
    • The podcast often includes interviews, audio clips and other materials, providing a deeper context of the crime.
    • The effort Casey and his team put into their research and production is impressive. Links to their sources are provided with each episode.

    My most recent binge from Casefile was several episodes on crimes committed by the The East Area Rapist, the Original Night Stalker, and the Golden State Killer in the late 70s to mid-80s who happen to all be one man–Joseph DeAngelo. The best episode was the last one where Casey read or played clips of survivors’ impact statements at DeAngelo’s sentencing hearing. It was the best episode because too often, justice is not found. In this case, it was. A little late, but that was due to the limitations of forensic testing at the time, the fact that DeAngelo was a former cop and knew how to avoid capture and identification, and lack of communication among the various law enforcement agencies involved.

    Finally, if you write crime fiction, this podcast will teach you a lot about crime, the justice systems in the U.S. as well as other countries, and how law enforcement, even with truly dedicated officers, can be hampered in their efforts to find and bring the perpetrators to justice.

    Now, what about my novel, which is about a murder?

    I don’t consider myself a gardener really, but I might allow myself to wear the label of amateur gardener. I am thrilled when one of my plants starts to bloom. Why, hello there, Georgia Aster! I’m so grateful to have a fall-blooming plant.

    Georgia Aster. Photo by Marie A Bailey.

    My red penta is still going strong, and I’ve planted a lavender penta and a red-yellow lantana in the front yard. Fingers crossed that I can keep them safe during the winter. The following Ruellia or Mexican petunia was an impulse buy.

    Ruellia simplex. Photo by Marie A Bailey.

    We had gone to Home Depot to order a new dishwasher (a whole other story, but let me just say that we’re never buying GE appliances again). I needed a couple of pots so we went to the gardening section. This lovely purple plant caught my eye. We’ve seen it around our city so, hey, let’s get a pot and see what happens.

    What happened was I did some research since the pot only said the plant was Ruellia. Well, according to the iSeek app, this is Ruellia simplex, a highly invasive plant.

    WTF.

    Through my research (and panic … what does one do with an invasive plant and why was it being sold at Home Depot????), I found the distributor (Costa Farms) who claims: “We sell sterile Mexican petunia varieties that don’t spread by seed. However, these are often vigorous plants and can colonize quickly in gardens and landscaping beds and borders — especially when grown in rich soil.” Okay, fine. The Ruellia I see around town seem well-controlled, but I’ll have to think long and hard about this. It’s so tempting to plant just this one in the front yard, yet perhaps I should keep it in a container.

    Meanwhile, there’s that novel I should be working on.

    One of the joys of gardening is discovering critters who like to eat my plants. I have three Black Swallowtail larvae on my Rue which is fine because that’s what Rue is for.

    Larvae for Black Swallowtail. Photo by Marie A Bailey
    Larvae for Black Swallowtail. Photo by Marie A Bailey
    More Black Swallowtail larvae. Photo by Marie A Bailey
    More Black Swallowtail larvae. Photo by Marie A Bailey

     

    I’ve also been knitting. Finally finished this wool lap blanket so I can put it away in my cedar chest since cold temperatures won’t be arriving down here anytime soon.

    Teal and purple wool lap blanket. Photo by Marie A Bailey.

    I’ve started crocheting granny squares for a larger blanket in a desperate effort to use up my stash.

    I have a punch needle kit and a cross-stitch kit as well as three knitting projects waiting for my attention. And sewing? Did I mention sewing?

    And then there’s my novel. Oh, boy. You see what I’m doing here?

    I’m avoiding my novel because I’m intimidated by the idea of writing from the POV of three narrators. My instinct (these days anyway) says to stick with one, that it will be enough of a challenge to write in first person. I’m trying to work through that. I’m trying to get my writing groove back. But I’m a bit overwhelmed.

    Going back to the quote at the beginning of my post, I am realizing that I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to being distracted and drowning. I need to develop some discipline if I’m ever going to finish my novel.

    So what do you all do? You publishing writers out there: How do you organize your time? I see a lot of you engage in social media. How do you manage to do that AND work on your writing? Is it just a trick of the Internet that you all seem to be out and about on social media all the time? How do you manage to stay engaged and yet productive?

    Thank you for reading, and thanks in advance for any advice you wish to share.

    Bonus cat photo: Junior, the green-eyed bully who harasses Maxine until she poops.

    Junior, green-eyed monster. Photo by Marie A Bailey

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  • The Beat Goes On

    October 1st, 2021

    You know I had to read my last post to see where I left off. Lol.

    Apologies for my absence from the blogosphere, not so much for not writing as for not reading. Whoa, I am so behind that I might not bother to try and catch up. 

    Update on my sister: Last week she was moved to a new, better and closer-to-home facility. She even has a private room. She is still on schedule to see the surgeon and (hopefully) get her cast removed on October 7. Still, we’re all taking things one day at a time. She has good days and bad days which means her husband and sons have good days and bad days. My brother-in-law met with a doctor at the facility who explained that given the trauma my sister experienced (breaking her leg) as well the subsequent surgery, anesthesia, changes in environment, etc., it’s expected that she would have good days and bad days. Maybe her Parkinson’s is getting worse, but maybe also she is still recovering from her fall. Right now we’re all just grateful that she’s in a better facility getting better attention and that her husband, sons, extended family and friends can visit more often. Everyone is staying positive.

    Update on Maxine: Two weeks of twice daily injections of antibiotics have cleared her UTI (good news!), but our vet wants us to do another two-week round (ugh!) and then a recheck to be sure. Her kidney enzyme values (creatine) have decreased by one point (from 6.9 to 5.9 for those well-versed in feline kidney disease) (also good news). We will continue to give her subcutaneous fluids every three days which is a nerve-wracking experience for both of us (more for Greg because he has to insert the needle while I hold onto Max and close my eyes) … but it helps her so it’s worth it. Plus, today we tried out a “harness” for the first time, and Maxine just relaxed on the couch while she got the fluids. I didn’t have to hold her. The harness is simply a velcro belt that fits around her hips and keeps the IV line in place so she can move around if she wants. Today she just laid on the couch and enjoyed having her head scratched while Greg administered the fluids. Max isn’t “out of the woods.” Previously our vet had said that if the antibiotics worked and the fluids helped, we’d be looking at another several months to a year with Max. I’m inclined to think that’s optimistic, but I’ve been rather pessimistic of late. I hope to be proved wrong.

    So the beat goes on. You know, I loved the Sonny and Cher show way back when. Good times.

    Here’s recent photo of Max, looking wide-eyed and alert and as willful as ever, living up to her nickname, “She Who Must Be Obeyed.”

     

    Comments are closed because I am SO far behind in writing and reading. I’m retired but there’s still not enough hours in the day. Go figure.

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  • The Power of Positive Thinking

    September 13th, 2021

    One of my nephews texted me this afternoon that he has seen my sister and she was in good spirits, smiling and looking forward to her lunch.

    (Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com)
    Not me, but a good representation of the look on my face while reading my nephew’s text.

    See this post if you wonder why I’m surprised.

    So the “scoop” (as my family likes to call news) is that the wing my sister is in is now (obviously) open to visitors. My brother-in-law and one of my nephews have seen her. She does have a UTI again, and it is being treated. (She had one a few weeks ago and, frankly, I can’t believe she would have developed another UTI if the staff were doing their job. Just sayin’.)

    She still has some cognitive issues, possibly due to Parkinson’s, although dehydration and UTIs can also muddle the mind. This is why it’s so important that my sister’s husband and sons visit her: to be sure she is getting fluids and food and the attention she needs to assure her recovery.

    So thank you all for your positive thoughts and prayers, your kind words and support. I imagine my sister is “not out of the woods yet” (another favorite saying in my family), but every day that goes by is one more day closer to her going home.

    My sister’s backyard (circa 2015).

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  • Not So Good News and F**k the Pandemic

    September 12th, 2021

    Earlier this week my brother-in-law called to give me an update on his wife, my sister. (If you’re reading my blog for the first time, here’s links to my two earlier posts about her: Waiting, but not for Godot and Waiting for Good News Sometimes Pays Off.) He had just come home from visiting her and said that she was very confused that day. Then he dropped the bomb: someone at the rehabilitation facility tested positive for COVID so now all visitations are off.

    Because of her current condition, my sister cannot advocate for herself, and now her husband and sons can’t see her and advocate for her. I am so angry that my brother-in-law and nephews can’t see her. They are all vaccinated and they wear masks. I understand that, for liability reasons, the facility has to shut down visitations if they have a case of COVID, but I can’t help but wonder if that case was brought in by an unvaccinated person. I can’t help but wonder and be enraged.

    We are very worried about my sister. A couple of weeks ago she had to be moved to a real hospital and fitted with an IV for a few days. She had become so dehydrated that she needed IV fluids, y’all! When she was returned to the rehab facility, she was perky and talkative and upbeat. Since then, she has progressively worsen, becoming confused, slurring her speech. Her urine is dark, prompting a urinalysis (for which we don’t know the results yet). I don’t know why the rehab facility is allowing her to deteriorate. My brother-in-law mentions that they are short-staffed and when the social worker told him not to worry, saying “we’ll take care of her,” he assured her that he will worry.

    I struggle with being positive, with believing that although my sister is in an apparently substandard facility, she will get through this. She is scheduled for a re-examination of her broken leg at the end of this month. I’m hoping that she can be released after that.

    My 97-year-old mother keeps saying my sister “has so much against her” and “won’t be the same after this.” I bite my tongue because she has to deal with her fears and worries in her own way. My mom’s comments have provided some illumination, though: now I know where I get my propensity to always imagine the worst scenario.

    Meanwhile, our oldest cat Maxine has a drug-resistant UTI. Rather than put her on a regimen of twice daily injections that could last months without a guarantee of effectiveness, our vet recommends monitoring her kidney enzymes for now. Maxine is currently at Stage 3 kidney disease, but she has a good appetite, drinks water, and pees and poops normally. She sleeps a lot but when she’s awake, she’s alert. Still, at times there’s a sense of her health careening out of control.

    Meanwhile, the Atlantic continues to churn up hurricanes.

    I want to be positive. Maxine acts like she still rules the household and that gives me joy.

    I want to be positive, but there’s still too many anti-vaxxers out there ruining it for everyone else.

    I want to be positive, but when it comes to my sister, I won’t be until she’s out of that place.

    ***

    If you’ve read this far, thank you. Again I hesitated about writing an unhappy post, but I need to write and I need to be honest. Meanwhile, I take my joy where I can find it, like with these two:

    Maxine catching some sun.

     

    Maxine, our oldest, with Raji, our youngest.

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  • Waiting for Good News Sometimes Pays Off

    August 30th, 2021

    You all were so kind with my last post that I want to give you a brief update. Bear with me because the news starts out as not-good.

    My sister had a setback on Saturday. She was moved back to the hospital and given IV fluids. We were all very upset, not understanding what was happening to her, and I still don’t know what happened. But the IV fluids worked! Early this morning my sister called her husband from the hospital and talked to him for 20 minutes! He reported that she was lucid, doing well, acting like her normal self. Since this morning, I’ve been getting texts from my nephews as they visit her and share their joy.

    My sister was transferred back to the nursing home today, and I was able to talk to her this afternoon. She doesn’t remember anything about the weekend except that she had weird dreams. She chatted about how much she needs to get her hair washed and what clothes her husband should bring her since she’ll be in rehab for a while. She laughed and complained that her roommate had the TV on too loud so she wants someone to bring her ear plugs … otherwise she’ll go deaf. She laughed, and I was flooded with relief. She’s going to be okay.

    As for my cat Maxine: after two weeks on antibiotics, she still has bacteria in her urine and elevated white blood count so a culture was sent off to a lab. We went through this with her a couple of years ago, trying different antibiotics and then a different vet (heh heh). We learned that an old cat such as herself could have a UTI that is untreatable by antibiotics. The thing is, she seems just fine. Aside from being hit-and-miss with the litter boxes, she’s spunky … like my sister.

    Maxine in her least favorite place … a pet taxi.

     

    Thanks, everyone, for your thoughts and prayers!

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  • Waiting, but not for Godot.

    August 28th, 2021

    I’ve always been indecisive, sometimes very indecisive, but never not indecisive. I wonder if indecisiveness is related to procrastination because I’m afflicted with both conditions.

    I have worked on my novel a bit here and there, but I’ve been spending the bulk of my creative energy learning punch needle work and knitting up some old yarn into a blanket.

    This here is my first-ever punch needle project. It was fun although I had some difficulties with the tools. I bought a kit, and the yarn provided was thick (and forgiving) wool.

    I’ve since bought another kit but … surprise! … the yarn provided is cotton floss, what I would expect to use in embroidery. Because of that, I bought a different punch needle and now I’m scared. I’m intimidated by the project and am going to have to clear away a lot of space in my brain before I get to it.

    Meanwhile, when the going gets tough, I go to my knitting. This here will be a lap blanket once it’s all done. The yarn is 100% wool and quite old. I either brought it with me from California thirty-some years ago, or I bought it soon after moving here. I can’t remember. In any case, the yarn has been stored in a cedar chest for many years. It’s past time it became something.

     

    I have enough of the same yarn in different colors to make a second blanket. Times like this I wish I lived back where I grew up, in north-central New York where warm wool items are valued and used more than they are here in hot, humid Florida.

    I procrastinate when I am waiting. But waiting for what? Good news? Is there such a thing?

    Our 17-year-old cat Maxine has been wreaking havoc by peeing and pooping outside the litter boxes most of the time. We’re treating her for yet another UTI, but I think it’s her wobbly back legs and diminished eyesight that’s causing the havoc. I bought new litter boxes designed for cats with arthritis, and I have puppy training pads around them to catch any “overflow.” As well her kidney disease seems to have gone from a stage 2 to stage 3, according to her latest lab results. Fortunately, the steroids she’s taking keep her appetite up. At this point, the good news is that she still does her business in the vicinity of the litter boxes. She’s also still spunky, so two bits of good news.

    My previous employer thinks I’m dead. Last month they refunded “the deceased policyholder” (i.e., me) for overpayment of my health insurance premium which had been automatically deducted from my pension, as it is supposed to be. I got it sorted out, but now it looks like it’s going to happen again this month. I can check my premium payments online so I guess the good news is I’ll be able to handle this before my premium is past due. Still, I don’t like being addressed as a deceased policyholder. Creepy.

    My sister in New York is in a rehab hospital. She fell and broke her leg a couple of weeks ago. She’s been living with Parkinson’s Disease for several years, and falling is one of the symptoms. I’m struggling to find good news here. All I can think is how unfair it is that she, of all of us, has been saddled with this disease.

    My sister has been a caretaker all her life. When our mother divorced our father (RIP), my sister stepped in and had him stay at her house when he came for visits (long story short: my father was mentally ill and during that time was living in a group home). When our father became ill, my sister pulled out all the stops to get him into a nursing home near her so she could visit him on her lunch breaks. When our elderly neighbor (RIP) was in failing health, she did the same for him.

    My sister and I used to talk about how our mother would come and live with her. Our mother will be 98 in a couple of months. She lives independently and is in better health than my sister, so living with my sister is not going to happen. While my mom’s health is good news, I still struggle to find any good news about my sister.

    All I have is this: she’s been married for 55 years to a wonderful man who loves her deeply. My brother-in-law is the epitome of “salt of the earth.” She has three sons who love her deeply. She has seven grandchildren who give her much joy and pride. This good news will have to do.

    ***

    Thank you for listening reading. I’m always hesitant to publicly write about my family, but, hopefully, I’m not crossing any lines here. Plus, I’m pretty sure few of them (if any) read my blog. Here’s a prize to all of you who have read this far: Raji in his “safe place,” which is our closet, on top of my husband’s clothes.

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  • Clouds: #Prosery

    August 16th, 2021
    St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge, Stony Bayou, March 29, 2021

    I’ve been down this dike before with you. I often veer off our path gaping at clouds in the wide blue sky, shuttering a desire to leave my bike and explore the bayous. It’s why we’re here, to feel the expanse of nature, the filling of our souls. Often ordinary but glorious cumulus clouds fill the sky.

    There are clouds today but these clouds are clearly foreign, such an exotic clutter against the blue cloth of the sky. Thin cotton rolls layer above our heads. Is this what they call a “mackerel sky,” I wonder but don’t ask out loud. You wouldn’t hear me anyway. You’re too far ahead. I always fall behind when we travel this dike. I want to stretch my arms, embrace the whole of the sky. I fall in love with these clouds like I fell in love with you.

    ***

    I’m participating in Merril’s prompt for dVerse Prosery Monday. Click here if you want to join in. Frankly, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I seem to be attracted to challenges where I’m limited to 144 words or less. I suspect it’s because I’m working on a novel … lol.

     

     

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  • LENS-ARTISTS PHOTO CHALLENGE #159 – POSTCARDS

    August 5th, 2021

    Almost down to the wire with this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge. The lovely Ana has the lead on this week’s prompt: Postcards.

    I would like to encourage you to participate, in any way you want. You can show us some of your pictures that you would send as postcards to someone you love. Or you can simply share with us images of your favorite places.

    If you have a garden full of flowers, show us a beautiful and colorful collection of floral postcards. It doesn’t need to be your garden, It can also be your neighbour’s. 😉

    If you have some real postcards it would be great if you would like to share them with us, I’m sure they have a nice story behind them.

    I love postcards. Even today with my iPhone as a camera and the ability to share photos in real time, I still look for the best postcards when I travel. Some I keep for myself, some I send to others. Here’s a few I kept from our trip to Bridgeport, California where we married on August 21, 1989.

    First, you need to know that back in the late 80s, we were living in San Francisco. In August 1988, I and my not-yet husband went on a car-camping trip through Nevada, returning to San Francisco via Bridgeport and Mono Lake. I fell in love with Mono Lake and its surreal tufa, or limestone, formations. We found a place for the night, and the next morning had breakfast in Bridgeport across from the county courthouse. Fast forward to the summer of 1989 where we are discussing where to go for our August vacation.

    “Let’s get married,” he said in his matter-of-fact way. (I admit, we had been talking about getting married, but the plan was to wait until December.)

    “Okay,” I said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as he did. “Where?”

    “In Bridgeport, at the county courthouse. It’s a beautiful building.”

    Swoon. Unbeknownst to him, my soon-to-be husband was revealing his romantic side. So we did, we married in Bridgeport and went car-camping in the White Mountains for our honeymoon. Here are some postcards from our trip. You can tell that I took photos of my postcards. They are pretty much stuck in the photo album we were given as a wedding gift.

    The county courthouse is at the right in the uppermost postcard above and at the bottom in the postcard below. Some of these postcards also have photos of the tufa formations at Mono Lake.

    Since it was a warm, sunny day, we chose to be married outside.

    This last postcard is my favorite and captures well what Mono Lake looks like on an overcast day.

    One of the things I had to do on our trip was “swim” in Mono Lake. I had read that because of the lake’s salinity, one would simply float on the water. I waded in only as far as my calves and couldn’t get out of the water fast enough. I had made the critical mistake of shaving my legs that morning. Talk about putting salt on wounds! Ha! I’ve never attempted it again although we’ve visited Mono Lake several times since.

    I hope you enjoyed this little excursion into the past. If you want to participate in this photography prompt (and there’s still time), please remember to link Ana’s post and use the Lens Artists tag. On Saturday, August 7, Patti will host LAPC #160 Your inspiration, which can be a place, a subject, a person, a book–just about anything that inspires you.

    Ciao for now!

     

     

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