This World Is Slowly Coming Undone

I cannot begin to understand this.  So many killed just because they happen to have dark skin?
And then, shooting police officers in the back, because of the previous shootings?
What is this? The wild west?
On top of this, the climate's gone bonkers, weather's all screwed up, and all our lawmakers can do is try to save the pocketbooks of big corporations, and argue about emails and other nonsense instead of doing something to see to it that ALL Americans have justice and the freedom to go about their lives without fear.

Yes, things are getting scary out there.  But really, they always have been.  We've just been forced to look at it more closely lately.  We DO need to change.  Hate, suspicion and violence cannot be permitted to continue.  We have to listen to each other, really listen, understand the fears on both sides, and yes, there are fears that the cynical play on to pit poor whites against blacks and other minorities.  Those fears are unfounded, but that matters not to the elite who profit from keeping folks divided.  We have got to start thinking about how others feel. People like me, who have had certain advantages that we pretty much took for granted, have to examine that and see where we need to be humble and grateful, and what we can do to ensure EVERYONE gets those advantages. There IS enough to go around, we just have to let go of greed, and we'll see it.  Easier said than done, I know.  All of it is.  Easy to say that we ought to change, hard as heck to do the work.  The work MUST be done.

In the midst of all this sorrow, anger, and soul-searching, I have been cleaning out my office.  Found some things that made me smile.  Valentine notes from coworkers, most precious, one from Melodie, who was taken from us by cancer a while back.  Old love letters from Matt.  Oh, my, did the boy ever have it BAD!  (So did I!) 32 years later, and we're still together...
I have cleaned out the file drawers, the closet, and most of my desk.  Reorganized the bookshelves, both in my office credenza and in the closet.  Looks a lot less like things are going to fall on me now. Everything on my weekend to do list is done, except the laundry.  I can do that tomorrow after church.  I got several limbs off the pecan tree yesterday, and Matt got the little electric chain saw going today to chop up the last of the big pieces so they'd fit in the trash.  The pecan tree is no longer rubbing the crepe myrtle, which is a good thing.  I got both yards mowed well before last night's rain hit, and the entirety of today, except for a walk, was spent sorting, cleaning, and tossing things in this office.  Whew.  Church and laundry are going to feel like a vacation!

I am blessed right now with an embarrassing number of wonderful fountain pens.  I guess I'll have to get busy and put more time in with those journals of mine!

There is also a story I've been working on for MONTHS, and I just might be able to coax it along to a finish before much longer.  (My proofreader is either going to love me or hate me.)

I have a birthday card or two to make tomorrow, as well as a budget to fuss, so it won't just be church and laundry.
Right now, however, it's National Pina Colada Day, so I'm going to make myself one, and sit here with my feet up enjoying it and reading fanfiction!  (It's how I relax!)
Until next time, be well, and be good to each other!

Mom's House and Other Adventures

I am spending a week at my  mother's house helping my sister with various chores that Mom can't get to.

It was quite an adventure to get there, and quite an adventure while we were there, and an adventure to get back.  Not as bad as it could be, but for me, any venture away from my familiar place and routine is fraught with danger.

Biggest danger was to my wallet while I was waiting for three hours in Houston for the next flight, and for my sister to get in so we could catch that flight together.  There are many little shops in the Houston airport.   All with high prices.  I managed to find one with reasonable post cards, and a small bagel shop that was also more reasonable, and I sat myself down and did postcards for awhile.  There was no good place to sit and read in anything resembling comfort.  That is one of the noisiest airports I've ever been in, and it has a distinct lack of seating in the area of B terminal near B1-11.

My sister and I usually stop to eat before we leave the last airport near our destination and drive to Mom's. This time, we didn't.  We drove on in the town where Mom lives, got  the house opened and took inventory, then went to eat something.  We stopped to see Mom, added to our shopping list, and made the first of MANY trips to WalMart.  Seems we can't do stuff at Mom's house without having to go get more stuff from WalMart.  Or Winn-Dixie.  Those are the two places we seem to find ourselves when we really just came to do yard work and visit with Mom.  There's always something we thought we had at the house that we don't have, something Mom needs at the assisted living place, just always something!

So, we survived the yardwork, and a week in a SMALL town.  The trip home was uneventful, even though we both had to RUN to catch our connecting flights home from Houston.  Soon as I got on that plane to OKC, I felt so good, even though I still had the vestiges of a sinus headache.  I do believe I'm allergic to Alabama.  First time I ever visited there, I got a headache, and it's happened ever single visit since.  I just make sure I have Excedrin Tension Headache and decongestant on hand when I get there.

This trip was so much more pleasant.  My sister seemed to feel better.  Mom is doing well at the assisted living, and there's just a lot less stress all around.  Mom looks better than she has in a while, she's eating right, she takes her medicine right, and actually interacts with other humans besides Aunt Margaret!  It's amazing.  She's just SO much better.  This facility is absolutely wonderful, and the people who work there obviously care about the folks they are responsible for.

On our trip back to the Pensacola airport to come home,  C-130 flew overhead, obviously associated with one of the military bases in the area.  That was a good omen to me.  C-130s are always a good omen to me.  Scrappy little cargo haulers that Matt used to fly on.  Love the sound they make.

Got home in one piece, had plenty of time between flights, even though I was afraid it was going to be too close.  Spent some time with good friends after I got home, got the laundry done, and made margaritas!  Yes, #KatieMargarita rides again!  (As the #Perlgirls will tell you.)

This week has flown much faster than last week did.  I have tomorrow off to prepare for another trip, this one to Austin, TX.  I've never been there before, so it will be fun to see a new place, and I get to meet a few more online friends in person, plus see a couple I've already met again!  Good times, and good friends.  It's going to be a great weekend.

More on that experience later, perhaps.

Further Reflections On My Trip and Return

One thing that amazed me is how many people ignore the view out the airplane window.  Do they fly so often that it now fails to amaze them?  I can understand if it is night time, or there are lots of clouds (though I enjoyed the cloud formations we flew above on Saturday morning), but on a clear, sunny day?  I'm glued to the window, watching the miniature world scroll by.  Farms, towns, factories, suburbs, vast stretches of apparently empty space.  It's all interesting to me.  I don't get to fly all that often, and the perspective gained by viewing our civilization from a distance can be heady stuff.  Our world really is pretty small, no matter how big it feels from down here.  What we do to the land matters, it shows up even from a distance. 

Though I like flying, and I like seeing new things, I don't like being away from my base of operations that much.  It unsettles me.  I guess I haven't found a good way to take it with me yet.  Ever since I got back, this song has been playing in my head, and refuses to be exorcised, no matter what.
Traveling Wilburys: Inside Out

The weeds in Alabama could probably rival the plants in Australia for vindictiveness and danger. Most of the vines I had to remove from in and on my mother's azalea hedges had HUGE thorns.  They are carnivorous, actively seeking the slight bit of bare skin between my long pruning gloves and my shirt sleeve.  I have multitudinous scratches and puncture wounds on my elbows.  I also ran afoul of the top of the chain link fence.  I was grateful over and over again for the tetanus shot I got shortly after the tornadoes.  At least I knew I was protected from disease.  Much antibiotic cream and cortisone cream have helped the scratches start to heal.  I also have bruises all over me.  Branches that argued with me, things that poked me through the sheet we used to transport our clippings to the curb, the abominable fence, my own pruners, these are the things that bruised me.  Stumps of old shrubs bruised my knees when I tried to kneel on them to reach the roots of some weeds. Also, I don't know if it is the bending and lifting I did while at Mom's or the vigorous workouts I've done since I got home, but my leg muscles are sore.  Something has worked them hard!

As hard as my sister and I worked every day, I still missed being really active.  I missed my walks and my elliptical time.  I listen to music and just move it when I am walking or using the elliptical.  Gets my blood pumping, and gets my heart rate up.  All that yard work was not aerobic.  Didn't benefit my heart or lungs much.  (In fact, being up close and personal with so much pollen was not so good for my allergies.  I am still living on antihistamines and eye drops.)
I also missed my regular clothes.  I had only yard work clothes at Mom's, except for the outfit I wore on the plane to and from.  None of my yard work clothes is the right size any more.  Most are about two sizes too big.  I felt really odd wearing those clothes every day.  (Although it was a bit of an ego boost, knowing how tight those clothes USED to be!)

REALLY missed my singing.  I just get lost in my songs and in the challenge of making my voice do what it needs to do to function properly.  Just couldn't do that at Mom's.  (Sister's snide comments didn't help, either.)  Voice lesson today was a challenge because I went so long without practice, and haven't really had time to practice much since I got home.  Once I found my groove, though, things went pretty well.

Since I got home, we have been OD-ing on the Pacific Rim Blu-Ray.  Lots of really neat extras on that set of discs, and we've been working our way through all of them.  I really love that movie.  It's just NEAT!!  (Added bonus, Ron Perlman is in it, and his daughter Blake  composed and performed a song for the closing credits .)

Matt framed our art posters that we bought at Dallas ComiCon Fan Days.  They look good in our hall.  Finally have art that really reflects our lifelong interests.

A Hellboy as an adolescent painting, and Gipsy Danger fighting a Kaiju by Devin Kraft of Cheshire Cat Art.  We met him at the con, and gave Ron Perlman a smaller print of the Hellboy painting as a token of our esteem.  (We thought it was cute.)






Here is a picture of a frog on the back wall of Mom's house.  May be a little blurry, it's zoomed in.

Here's the front of Mom's house after we got done taming the azaleas.


















When I got home, my Boot Campaign boots were waiting for me.  These boots are sold as a fundraiser for a program that gives aid to servicemen and women returning from overseas.  I bought them to support the cause, and to reward myself for a 30 pound weight loss since I started this effort in January.

Speaking of my weight loss, here are some before and after photos to give a little perspective on how much difference 30 pounds makes.

This is me at 168 pounds.

And this is me at 138 pounds.  BIG difference, eh?  Biggest difference is in how I feel and in the numbers on my health records.  BP lower, Cholesterol lower, everything looking good!









Guess that's about all for this outing.  I have wandered around in the wilderness long enough.  Hope you enjoyed the trip.

The Annual Trip To Mom's

On this very warm October Friday, I am finishing some laundry and preparing for the annual trip to my Mom's house in Alabama.  This is not our family home, she sold that in the 90s and moved to  a little town in Southern Alabama, next door to her sister, my Aunt Margaret.  It isn't far from where she and several of my aunts and uncles grew up.  (The family home was in Los Angeles County, California, in a little unincorporated area called Hacienda Heights.  At least MY version of the family home.  Moved there when I was 14 and all the others were already grown and gone.  I finished Jr. high, high school, and college living in that house.) (The older kids call the Compton house the family home, 'cause that's where they finished school.  By the time I reached Jr. High, Compton was no longer a good place to be.)

At any rate, I already mailed two boxes of clothes ahead to my Mom's so I'll have stuff to wear to do all the yard work we're going to do.  I left some stuff there last year, but it is all probably too big for me now.  I've lost 30 pounds since December.  (20 of it since May.) I have to pack all the stuff I might need en route into my huge purse so I don't have to mess with a carry on.  This usually works pretty well.

It is late evening now, and my preparations are almost done.  My sister is worrying about thunderstorms delaying her plane.  Sigh.  They'll come or they won't, it's the weather in the Plains.  Usually don't pop up bad until later in the afternoon than when we'll be there.  Last Saturday, they didn't start until after 4 pm., at least as far as I remember. (I was a bit, uh, distracted last Saturday.)

It is now one week and two days since I wrote the paragraphs above.  I have survived the journey to Mom's, the week of yard work, and the journey home.  Still trying to get my mind and body back on normal schedule.  Mom's house is in the same time zone, but the schedule is vastly different when dealing with an elderly relative.  Earlier up and earlier to bed.  Also had to get up and out to work early, before it got too hot. 

The weather is part of my disorientation right now.  I left warm temperatures behind here in Oklahoma, to go to even warmer (and more humid) temperatures in southern Alabama.  I came home to true Oklahoma Autumn.  Cool, sunny days and cold nights.  Beautiful clear, bluer than blue skies, and very bright sparkly starry nights.  I find myself contemplating taking the winter things out of hibernation and putting the summer ones away.  Not a good chore, as many of my winter workout things will no longer fit.  They will be far too large.  Now, this is a good thing on one hand, because it shows that I have lost 30 pounds.  It is a bad thing in that I really don't want to spend more money on clothes right now.  I had to upgrade my phone during the short week I was home before going to Alabama, because the venerable Droid X2 decided that it was done during our weekend at Dallas ComiCon Fan Days.  (Where I finally got to meet Ron Perlman.)  This is not an inexpensive undertaking.  I am still not sure how much my new bill will be every month.  The new phone, however, is wonderful.  Except for the fact that the wireless charging back won't fit in my Otter Box Defender case, it's perfect.  So, I have to do without the wireless charging capability until I can find a protective case that will work with it.  I really prefer the Defender cases, though, as they really make the phone easier to handle, and they keep it in almost new condition. (Plus my new case is really pretty.  Purple outer case with a seafoam green inner case.)


I also have to do the paperwork.  Bills to be paid, budget fussed.  Email cleared up.  Sigh.  Made chili for dinner.  (No heads, SOA fans, I promise.  I discuss cooking with Michael Ornstein sometimes, NOT with Chucky.)  Only  unusualness in this chili was about a cup of Left Hand Milk Stout. Added some depth to the flavor.

It felt so different to be out of my native adult environment, away from my husband, and with my Mom and my sister, who both tend to think of me sometimes as still being a very spoiled child.  I will admit to being a bit spoiled, but I am no longer a child.  I think it surprises my sister every year when we start all this work, exactly how much I CAN do.  I know when I was a child I was pretty useless except as an ornament or a distraction.  These days, I have experience running a household, often for long periods of time on my own, and in a foreign country far from family.  I have experience dealing with the public, handling all sorts of transactions, and performing for an audience.  I can also successfully navigate the bureaucracy of the military that affects my life.  I am confident in my ability to do my job and in my relationships with others.  Why, then, do I become a very insecure and fearful person around my family?  Perhaps because I know they will never really understand a lot of things about me.  I am the different one in this bunch, the sci-fi and fantasy fan, the musical one, the poet, the daydreamer.  They never did understand my non-sequitur comments, never could follow my admittedly eccentric train of thought.  Matthew can.  He's always been able to figure me out.  One reason I married the man.  He knows me. And he loves me anyway.
Another thing that bothered me was the way this trip made me reflect on leave taking.   When someone leaves this life, they can do so in a number of different ways.  They can go unexpectedly and suddenly, like my nephew, and send us all into shock and grief.  They can go out fighting to the last, like Melodie did, brave, inspiring, and striving to their last breath, or they can go little at a time, the way Mom is.  She is going to be 90 on her next birthday, and she is growing weaker, and her mind a bit fainter every time I see her.  She forgets little things, she forgets she just told you something, and so tells you again.  And again.  She doesn't cook, or quilt, or even read much anymore.  All were things she loved to do.  She has trouble walking, and spends most of her day just hanging out in her recliner, with old TV shows re-running in the background.
My sister is getting older, too, but she is as spirited and stubborn as ever.  Her father's daughter.  She will never really be old, I don't think.  Too much attitude.  Even if she is a grandma.
As for the work we did this week, well, I DO have a few pictures.

Azalea by Mom's driveway, during.

Same azalea after.

Circle of Azaleas, after trimming.

Sister Susie trimming.

Front of house, before

We did the back yard, too, but I am having trouble getting these photos to behave, so I think I will cut my losses and end this blog entry now.  I still have a lot to get done before resuming my regularly scheduled life tomorrow.

Some Thoughts on a Friday Night

"Friday Night in the Big Town!"  Gary England always says.  Yeah, well, Moore isn't really a big town.  It's a nice little suburb, and full of great people, has a fabulous theater, a Harley Davidson dealership, and a wonderful library.  (And lots of other shops and parks and restaurants, but you get the idea.) 
Oklahoma City is considered "the Big Town" around here.  To  a girl who grew up in the suburbs of Los Angeles County, it's not so big, either.  A few Friday nights when I was in high school, (in the late 70's when things were pretty wild), my friends and I used to gas up Kathy's old Delta 88 and head to Hollywood for "Hollywood Boulevard Safari."  That's what we called cruising Hollywood Boulevard.  We had rules.  All doors must remain locked and all windows rolled up for the entire cruise.  There was to be no interacting with the nightlife, we were only there to observe.  And observe we did.  Drag queens so fabulous, the women looked less like women than they did, generally funky people out ambling around, the odd cop or two questioning people.  We never told our parents where we were going.  We'd all still be grounded if we had.  We lived in a nice middle class suburb in the San Gabriel Valley called Hacienda Heights.  Our school's band and football team won all kinds of state titles the four years my friends and I were attending.  At least four of us were in the Shakespeare Club at school, and all of us were Honor Roll students.  Going out to cruise Hollywood Blvd. was our only real vice.  None of us had boyfriends that year, so we had fun being "just us girls."

The kids around here think cruising 12th Street in Moore is a big deal.  I don't get it.  Nothing interesting to see here, certainly nowhere near the entertainment value of our forays into Hollywood.  Yet, for YEARS the kids in this state would come from all over to cruise 12th Street.  The cops have pretty much put an end to it, well, their presence and the much higher price of gas these days.  Neighbors have told us of being unable to leave the subdivision for the traffic on cruise nights, and the NOISE was something awful.  Thankfully, the cruising had been pretty well shut down before we moved here.
These days, my Friday night is seldom more than a chance to really relax and not worry too much about how late I happen to stay up writing.  I do have to watch the clock tonight, though.  I have to get up and get the weeding and mowing done before it gets too stinking hot tomorrow.  The yard looks disgraceful.

On another tangent; our quest to lose weight and be healthier is going pretty well.   Matt is back in size 36 slacks, and I am back in my size 10 jeans.  It is hard to log everything we eat and all the exercise we do, but worth it.  Both of our recent blood tests have come back with excellent results.  Matt has even been taken off one of the heart medications they put him on since he has done so well losing weight and keeping his blood pressure in control.  I am proud to say that I take no prescription medications at this time.  My numbers were all really good, and the doctor knows my high blood pressure readings in the clinic are white coat hypertension.  (I had a very bad experience in an emergency room as a young child, and hospitals and doctor's offices have freaked me out, at least on a subconscious level, ever since. )  I have to really concentrate on my breathing and relaxing myself to get a near normal reading in a clinical setting.  My numbers here at home have been going down as my weight goes down.
It makes me feel good to be able to wear clothes I haven't fit in for a long time.  I also need to start my workout with free weights again, as I need to strengthen my muscles and prevent bone loss.  I know I will never recapture my lost youth, but I think I look pretty good, and I'll settle for looking good for my age and being healthy.  Very excited that Matt is starting to look like the man I married again instead of a much too heavy man.


To start yet another topic, I am so far behind on the books I want to read that it isn't even remotely amusing.  I have several things on my Nook that I really do want to read, but I keep getting distracted.  Maybe now that the weather is settling down, and life around here is settling back to something like normal, I'll be able to concentrate on my reading again.  I have been  reading, but have had to backtrack and re-read a lot because my mind wanders off in the middle of things.  Not that the books are not interesting and engrossing, just that my ability to concentrate hasn't been too great lately.  Have also been distracted by trying to catch up with some movies and TV shows that I have not been able to watch.  Netflix is a wonderful thing, but boy, you can sure overdose on it if you aren't careful.  I try to save stationary chores like ironing for the times I want to watch say, Sons of Anarchy,  so I won't be so inclined to watch more than I can absorb in one sitting.  There is a lot going on in that show that is not immediately apparent.  Layers upon layers.  My husband doesn't like it, says it glorifies outlaws, but he hasn't really watched it, I don't think.  I do know there used to be a motorcycle club that hung out across the street from where he bought his house in San Bernardino.  They were pretty small-time, and mostly pretty amusing, but I didn't hang out with them too much, only with Saundra, who ran the Star Trek fan club we belonged to.  (Yes, a biker chick who liked Star Trek, they DO exist.)  In fact, I think it was Saundra who told Matt he really ought to ask me out.  His Mom was in the club, too, and SHE actually introduced us to each other.  (Yeah, my mother in law wrote sci-fi stories and sometimes called herself "Granny Space".  She was a good writer, had a wonderful sense of humor, and I really miss her.)

Anyway, that and the dread of the hot, humid hours I must spent dealing with weeds and grass tomorrow are what has been rattling around in my brain this evening.  Hope everybody has a great weekend.
As Ever,
Katie