SHAKE, RATTLE, AND ROLL

August was a weird month. Pneumonia, an earthquake, and a hurricane.  Not going down as one of my favorite months of 2011 - but quite possibly, it could be the most memorable.

It started with a cough - and a pain in my back, which escalated to fever, chills, and the nagging feeling that I just might die.  Being the Queen of Procrastination, I had not found (or, I confess, even looked for) a doctor in Pennsylvania, even though I have lived here for a year now.  So, this put me in a terrible spot.  I was forced to turn to Urgent Care.  I am not sure what the current definition of  "Urgent Care" is, but in my mind, it did not include waiting for 6 1/2 hours in a germ-infested waiting room with a fever of 103. This was the price of my procrastination, however, and I accepted it as gracefully as possible while promising God that if I ever got out of the waiting room alive, I would find a real doctor ASAP.  Which I did.  It took two weeks before I was able to go out the door without feeling like I might pass out.

Being the quintessential Southern woman, the first thing I did was to go to the hairdresser.  I was already two weeks beyond my regular appointment, and the gray roots had reared their nasty little heads and were beginning to roar.  As I was sitting quietly in the salon, waiting for my turn, the earth began to shake.  My first thought was , "Boy, I am still really sick."  I mean, who would have suspected an earthquake?  In Pennsylvania?  I was probably the only person who was actually relieved to find that it was indeed an earthquake - and not a relapse for me.

Then we trudged forward to experience Hurricane Irene.  I dutifully filled the bathtub with water, found all the flashlights and checked the batteries, bought bottled water, even though I was certain we had little to worry about.  Truly the only thing I thought would happen would be to lose Direct TV, since reception is precarious at best.  The wind blew, the rains fell, the house creaked and groaned - and all was well....until it was all over.  Then we lost power.  Go figure. 

My family does not know how to chew without the TV on, so three days of no power was beyond stressful.  First of all, it is REALLY DARK out here in the country!  I have heard the expression about not being able to see your hand in front of your face, but I had never experienced it before.  I was glad that I had filled the tub with water, because that was the only way we could flush the toilet.  Eventually, we started using water from the pool.  It was all too much like camping for me - without the S'mores.  I know that there were people who were without a lot longer than we were....I can't even imagine. 

So I gladly greeted September, ready to get back into the swing of life.  Of course, now we are experiencing rain, rain and more rain - and floods.  But I don't mind.  I'm not coughing, the earth is not shaking, and I am still marveling at the wonder of electricity.  Maybe we all need a little shaking up from time to time to appreciate the little things.  At least, I think I did.

KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE SKY - YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO GET YOU!

When we bought this new house - it came with a pool.  I didn't really want a pool...my swimsuit days are LONG behind me.  BUT - since it is HERE - we are using it.  The first time I got in, I was like a little kid - splashing and swimming and enjoying the sensation of being free.  Especially from the wheelchair.  Made me remember the days when I could really move.  And it is very private - no one can see unless they are in a plane flying overhead...in which case my house may be mistaken for Sea World, but who cares!
The other weekend, George and I were enjoying a wonderful Sunday afternoon in the pool on our floats.  The breeze was blowing, butterflies were everywhere, a few puffy clouds in the sky and I think we were both almost asleep when I opened my eyes and noticed buzzards flying overhead.  They were circling lower and lower and it dawned on me that we better start moving around because it was obvious they thought they had spotted a Sunday barbeque!  When we started kicking our feet - they flew off in search of something that was really dead.
I started thinking that life it kind of like that.  We have to keep moving...keep learning...keep reaching...keep trying new things.  Otherwise, we waste our days and before we know it, we become dull and lifeless, with no joy.
Mary Kay Ash said, "Some people drift through their entire life.  They do it one day at a time, one week at a time, one month at a time.  It happens so gradually they are unaware of how their lives are slipping away until it is too late."
I could paraphrase that quote by saying, "Don't let the buzzards get you!"  I think my quote is more memorable.

I'M ON A ROLL

I am finally writing.  Seriously writing.  After nearly a year of not being able to put a thought together - or sustain an idea, this is a wonderful feeling!  I suppose the anxiety of moving probably played a huge part in sucking the creativity out of me, but whatever the reason, I am glad to be on the other side of it.  I have been working for quite awhile, but wanted to be sure it would last before I put it out here in the blogosphere.  For the first time, I have to also say that I am enjoying the process.  It had been my intention to write fantasy instead of continuing in the crime genre.  And, that is what I am doing.  So much more fun to spend my "brain time" creating a new world filled with magic and interesting characters than delving into the minds of serial killers!  I know - seems like a no-brainer, but for me, it was not easy to change.  I felt that I could write the other genre well and was afraid to try something different. 
One of the biggest factors in stimulating my creativity was that I freed myself from the worry of publication.  I don't care if I land a book deal or not.  I do care if people READ what I write, so I plan to aim for total electronic publication.  At least, that is what I am thinking at this moment.  With all the electronic reading devices out there, the world of publishing is changing rapidly and this seems do-able to me.
So, I will keep you posted on my progress.  The project is looking like it will be a trilogy - another new avenue for me.  All I know is that it is great to be creating again.  I am a boring person without it!

"GEE, YOU LOOK FAMILIAR!"

"It is a sweet thing, friendship...a dear balm; a happy and auspicious bird of calm.".....Shelly

Sometimes the way the Universe works is simply mind-boggling.  I recently discovered that a friend I went to school with as a child lives only 20 - 30 minutes from my house here in Pennsylvania.  Gives new meaning to "small world!"  She came for a visit the other day - and I am still smiling!

 I must admit that I was nervous...after all, I had not seen her in nearly 40 years!  A lot has happened in that time...a lifetime, really...and I wondered what she would think of me now.  I even worried about what we would talk about. (Ridiculous I know.  I have never been at a loss for words!)  However, the moment she walked through the door, the 40 years seemed to magically evaporate and it was as if I had just seen her yesterday.  Truly amazing.  We had a wonderful afternoon together laughing and catching up - and doing a fair amount of simply reminiscing. 

There was a difference, though...I sensed a deeper, more authentic connection between us than when we were young.  I think that is one of the gifts of growing older.  We shed the superficiality of youth, and embrace our days with a tender grasp on wisdom and an appreciation for the treasures to be found in the human heart.  The joy of friendship, the rich bond that unites two people, is a vital part of our journey on earth.  It reminds us that we are not alone - that we have a touchstone for belonging - a common thread that weaves a beautiful design between two lives.  It may be colored with childhood memories, or similar interests, or simple compatibility, but whatever its composition, it is valuable beyond measure.

Yes - it really is a small world after all, and I am glad that it is.  (Now - I bet you are humming that song just like I am!)

When my friend came by for our afternoon "reunion", she graciously brought me some yellow roses and now, every time I walk by them, I remember our laughter and I smile. 

WHAT CAN I DO ABOUT IT?

I know, I know...where have I been....who knows?  Maybe it was too much holiday...too much fruitcake...too much "whatever" that lulled me into a creative-free, no writing zone.  All I know is today I woke up with something to say.

I am simply amazed at the collective "Ah-hah" moment this country seems to be having on the heels of the tragic shooting in Arizona.  Can it really be that no one has noticed the insanity of meanness that is sucking the life out of our country until just a few days ago??? Or is this just another political ploy to lure us like lemmings as we continue to choose sides? 

Have we been under a rock somewhere?  Have we missed the increased lack of civility in our government?  The continuous ranting, 24-7, on the TV?  The venomous political ads that attacked us in our living rooms like shrapnel on the battlefield?

And it hasn't confined itself to just politics.  How about the children committing suicide over bullying and labels? Or the fact that now we need to have legislation to keep some wacko church from protesting the funeral of a little 9 year old girl because she was Catholic??? Dear God...and I really mean that...Dear God, we need help.

I read somewhere recently that the old argument of "I'm right, and you are wrong," (as bad as that was) is now, "I'm right, and you are evil." Really scary stuff.  We label everything and everyone and in doing that, we ignore and eventually forget the things that make us all the same.  We even have labels "within" our labels.  For example, in POLITICS, we have Republicans, Tea Party Republicans, Conservative Republicans, Moderate Republicans, Democrats, Blue-Dog Democrats, Progressive Democrats, and Independents. In CHRISTIANITY we have, Methodists, Baptist, Southern Baptists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Fundamental Baptist, Free Will Baptist, Jehovah Witnesses, Mormons....on and on and on and on...each little label signifies a group that proclaims, "I am more right than you are - so there!"
With PEOPLE, we have division by race and religion (even though we want to say that we don't), we have gays and straights, married and unmarried, fat or thin, rich or poor, educated or ignorant, geographic labels (Redneck Southerners, Crazy Californians, Uptight New Englanders, etc.) And the sad thing is that what I have listed barely scratches the surface of what is out there to divide us.

So...what can I do about it besides rant?  I can make a pledge to myself to not judge.  Now...I know I will have judgmental thoughts...but I don't have to express them.  I can make a pledge to myself, that my words will be kind, inclusive, and affirmative.  That is all I can do because I am the only one I have control over.

Now, how about you?  

OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE WOODS....NOT!

I looked for some quotes about Thanksgiving - but they all seemed trite to me.  They didn't really express what is in my heart.  The holiday feels a bit strange this year.  I guess that is because we are in a new place.  It makes me think back to other Thanksgiving celebrations I've known.

I can't remember Thanksgiving as a child, for some reason.  I'm sure we had them...but I don't remember the family gathering anywhere.  But, when I was an adult, I remember that my Dad said it was his favorite holiday.  Perhaps it had always been that way - but as an adult, I started to pay attention to my parents as "people"...not just as my parents.  When my Mom got leukemia, Dad would insist on the family all going out to eat...and he paid the bill.  It was a way for him to give to us...but I didn't really see it then.  Honestly, I kind of dreaded the whole thing...getting dressed up to eat in a restaurant seemed like a "forced" holiday.  Now I see it differently, and I wish I had been more grateful at the time.  We went for several years to Graves Mountain Lodge.  Funny - I think about how much I hated walking up the hill in the parking lot in heels!  Of course, now - that I am in a wheelchair, I would love to have that problem again!  After Mom died, we went to the Boar's Head Inn in Charlottesville a few times.  Daddy was sad then - and would always bring up how much Mom would have loved to be there.  As the family dwindled...my grandmother died....my great aunt died...and soon it was just my sister and her family - along with my family - and Dad.  And, even then, I still didn't "get it."

They say that with age comes wisdom....and that is certainly true with me.  Now I see that Dad's greatest gift was not paying the bill for a Thanksgiving feast.  His greatest gift was a sense of family.  My sister and I are so close - and I think those dinners paved the way for the relationship we have now.  It has made me re-evaluate what it means to be grateful.

This year it will be a small "celebration" - just George, Marilyn and me.  But, I am so grateful for love in my life...for this little relaxed gathering in our new home in Pennsylvania.  I am grateful that my son, Ben, and his wife, Heidi, are happy and safe in Oregon, and that they can have dinner with her parents - without experiencing the nightmare of air travel!  I am grateful that my sister is well and that we were able to spend time together last week (she came for a visit - will write about that on another day).  I am grateful that I have weekly phone conversations with my uncle, Weber.  He keeps that little thread of childhood family alive for me.  I am grateful that I am as mobile as I am, considering everything - and my life is full and active.

And, mostly, I am grateful for age - that transition in life that opens our eyes to what is really important, and what is not.  Everyday, I am grateful for the opportunity to learn something new - and to perhaps look at things with new eyes.

I hope you have a wonderful holiday - and that you find that place in your heart where true gratitude resides.

THERE IS MAGIC TO BE FOUND....WE ONLY HAVE TO IMAGINE IT

"Of course there are fairies - just as there is Father Christmas."  George Crawley

George Crawley died this year, on October 29th.  Perhaps you have never heard of him...I hadn't.  But I had heard of the incident that started the mystery he attempted to solve:  the mystery of the Cottingley fairies.

On a summer day in 1917, in Cottingley- a West Yorkshire village- two cousins, Elsie Wright (age 16) and Frances Griffiths (age 10) borrowed Elsie's father's glass-plate camera and took pictures of fairies they claimed to see in the glen near their house.  Once developed, the photograph showed Frances surrounded by whitish forms that resembled bits of paper.  Their families dismissed the images as a childish prank, but the girls stuck to their story.  Later that summer, they took another photo, this time of Elsie confronting what appeared to be a gnome.  The families remained skeptical, but kept the photos as private curiosities - and they would have stayed that way, except two very influential men entered the picture.

The first was Edward L. Gardner, who was a leader of the Theosophical Society in Britain.  He heard of the photos in 1920 and knew that if they were genuine, it would greatly advance his cause in the belief of the existence of spirit life.  After examining the photos, he concluded that they were real - and wanted to use them as illustrations in his lectures.  So, he made new prints, using an advanced dark-room technique, which showed the fairies clearly.

The second man was Arthur Conan Doyle.  That name is familiar because he is the author of Sherlock Holmes. Doyle was a skilled photographer, and a devoted spiritualist as well. Mr. Gardner enlisted his help, and together they began to promote the photos.

There was no turning back now for Elsie and Frances.  In 1920, using cameras supplied by Gardner and Doyle, they took three more fairy photos.  Doyle later wrote a book defending the photos. (The Coming of the Fairies)

For the next 60 years, interest in the Cottingley fairies never went away.  For decades the girls - now grown- were interviewed in the British Press and on television and they did not recant the story.  In the late 70's and early 80's an investigation began in earnest, and Mr. Crawley was one of the investigators.  He was a chemist and the editor-in-chief of the magazine British Journal of Photography.  His 10-part series exposing the photos as fakes appeared in 1982 and 1983.  He used a type of photographic forensics to show that the photos used by Gardner and Doyle could not have been produced by the cameras used by the girls without a little bit of darkroom manipulation (I suppose the forerunner of Photoshop!)

Amid all the hoopla of the 1980's the "girls" finally came clean, admitting the hoax in the Times of London.  They said that they never had any intention of doing anything other than playing a trick on their family.  They used fairy illustrations from a book - cut out and taped on hatpins and then stuck in the ground.

However - while Elsie, who died in 1988, confessed that all the photos were fakes, Frances, who died in 1986, maintained that the fifth photo was real.

Two of the three cameras the girls used are on display at the National Media Museum in Bradford. 

I suppose because sometimes this world is an ugly place, there is a part of us all that likes to escape into fantasy.  Yes, there is the magic of Santa Claus....and the playfulness of fairies...but more importantly - there is the wonder and gift of imagination.  So - Mr. Crawley put a glaring spotlight on what everyone actually knew, even if they didn't want to admit it...the fairies weren't real.  At least not real enough to photograph.   But they did exist in the endless world of imagination - where they could scamper through the glen, hide behind the trees and dance in the moonlight. 

At least, that is how I choose to see them.