No Excuses--an update

Yes, I haven't posted much this new year. The fibromyalgia has been worse this winter than it has in several years, and we really haven't had a cold winter. I have gained a lot of weight, much to my annoyance. I have tried to do regular pain management things, like sleep more and belly dance, but the pain is still there. Sometimes I like the achy feeling, as sick as that sounds. It reminds me that many fibro patients have it a helluva lot worse; at least I'm not on pain pills.

On the good side, my back room is almost ready. All I need is a relatively sturdy table to set up my sewing area and my painting area. Part of me wants to try to talk Daniel into stealing a low table from one of the closed flea market booths in the area....They are the right length and height. I am working on a embroidery art piece, and even have a piece or two I could try to sell on eBay. Still, I miss the painting. I don't feel like a real artist when I don't paint. But soon, I will be back in the saddle and covered in paint.

There is trouble a brewing in the Lifestyle, mostly boring political bullshit, in our group. We have met so many new people, and I look forward to seeing them all at the next Rockers party (next weekend).
Now my hands are hurting, so I must go, I promise to try to post more.

Howl - Allen Ginsberg

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LYRICS ALERT!!!!!

Closer to Fine--Indigo Girls

I’m trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
And the best thing you’ve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously
It’s only life after all
YeahWell darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable
And lightness has a call that’s hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it
I’m crawling on your shores
I went to the doctor,
I went to the mountains
I looked to the children,
I drank from the fountains
There’s more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
And the less I seek my source for some definitive(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

And I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a b-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind
Got my paper and I was free
I went to the doctor,
I went to the mountains
I looked to the children,
I drank from the fountains
There’s more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
And I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I’d been the night before
And I went in seeking clarity.
I went to the doctor,
I went to the mountains
I looked to the children,
I drank from the fountains
Yeah we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains
We look to the children, we drink from the fountains
Yeah we go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There’s more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

Blonde joke

Sometimes you just have to love a good blonde joke...http://bluefairlane.blogspot.com/2006/01/blonde-joke.html

The Alchera Project for Dec. 2005

The tree leans away from us,
the string ready to tie it to the roof
of the stationwagon.
It knows it will leave its farm home,
and with one fell blow from an axe,
will morph from tree, to garland, to fire.

Broken hearts covered in coal dust.

My father was a coal miner, for most of the 10 years he was actively in my life. We lived in coal areas as diverse as Kentucky, Illinois, Colorado, and West Virginia. Buchanan, WV, specifically, in an little area called Tallmansville. It was a hauntingly beautiful place, a mix of the Appalachian culture I was used to with some markings of New England. My father worked the mines there, but I couldn't tell you if it was the Sago mines. It was almost 25 years ago, the name has changed. It was definitely that area. I remember the church I saw on CNN, the church where the families of 13 trapped miners sat trying to comfort each other as they waited..and waited. Then, inexplicably to me, there was news of 12 Miners alive. It didn't ring true to me. The levels of methane that was measured, I knew from long experience, couldn't support life that long. Three hours ticked by, then the truth that I had felt all along was revealed: only one survived. I watched CNN as the CEO of the coal company told those people that there had been a mistake. I heard the screams from the church on TV. The coal company knew 20 minutes after the first announcement that it was probably wrong. They let those families sit there, in rapture, for three hours thinking they would see their men alive again. They rushed the only survivor to St. Joseph's, a hospital too small to help him (Pikeville Hospital is bigger). My father got his hand stitched up there, after a piece of coal cut the top of his hand.

I felt a special sickness watching all of this. Unlike 9/11, I was part of the culture these people came from. I know that faith is the deepest part of their psyche. Faith keeps miners going into the mines, hoping they come out alive. Faith that if they keep that job, they feed their families. Faith in a Christian god that miracles happen. The CEO of International Coal group, Ben Hatfield, with one sentence, shattered the one deepest part these people use to survive. I am not a Christian, and I don't believe in an absolute Hell. But the obscenity of letting those people have hope for 3 hours, while knowing the truth, deserves punishment enough for 12 lifetimes in Hell. Actually, a special circle of Hell needs made just for them; one that looks like the tunnels of a deep, dark mineshaft, with eternal suffocation. Forever looking at a tarp, covering an opening, that will never protect you from the fumes you know are coming for you. That is the punishment they deserve.

2005...A hopefully painless overview.

I', going to break this down to be as traumaless as possible:

Jan.-March,
Was in the process of being wooed by a very charismatic man, who talked me into doing things
I never would have done. Ended up having a very bad split from this man, internally, to which he still doesn't know the extent and depth of my loathing of him to this day. This man showed me exactly how dark and deep and complicated a mindfuck could delve. I became an escort, to try to augment my small income, and push the boundaries of how far I would let my mind and body go . I met a lot of interesting people along the way, and learned a great deal about the psyche of men (to their detriment LOL). I had a thoroughly extreme cleansing of my heart, opening it up to better love, that I didn't know was so close.

April-June,
I met Daniel. I let him into my world, the beauty and the ugliness and the depravity. He understood. I began to walk a road with him, one that leads us both the same direction. I found out that, for the first time in many years, what it was to feel real love again, with all the fear and giddiness. I got accepted to the school of my dreams, and began to plan a move to Savannah, GA.

July-Sept.
I changed legitimate jobs, to a much less stressful part of UK. Had a very memorable 4th of July, when old illusions crumbled, and dreams died. And yet, new ones emerged at the same time. Daniel and I realized we could no longer go living apart. I all but ended being an escort. The third anniversary of my husband's death came and went uneventfully, for the first time.

Oct.-Dec.
On Oct. 15, for only the third time in my life, a man got on his knees and asked me to marry him. For only the second time, I said Yes. The plan to move Daniel to Lexington crumbled last minute. So, I took a very big psychological plunge, and decided to move to Pikeville and Eastern Kentucky, the area where I began. I changed my life. I became a housewife. I cut most of the ties I had made after John's death. And like a phoenix ( that gained 20 pounds) I rose to meet the new challenges of a new life with a man I'm not really worthy of, but deeply grateful for loving.