Blessings

"Blessings" by Laura Story

We pray for blessings, we pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
And all the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love
As if every promise from Your word is not enough
And all the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

'Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know                    You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise


When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not,
This is not our home
It's not our home

'Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know                   You're near

What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy
What if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise




Psalms 27:13

Yet I am confident I will see the LORD's goodness while I am here in the land of the living.

November Meeting for Brush and Palette

November 17 marked a different venue for the B&P monthly meeting. Eleven women gathered in the back room of Artist's Haven to paint still life pictures.

B&P President Elise Lind (shown above) says it is one of her favorite meetings of the year when everyone is invited to show up, paint in their favorite medium, and share camaraderie.

Shown above is Laegan McGee as she was finding the angle from which to paint a still life of a silver service along with autumn squashes and apples.

After just a few hours, here are products from the group after viewing and painting the still life setups.

Trudy Ungaro brought delicious chocolate cinnamon rolls, yet no picture of either her or the dessert bread was snapped on Thursday. This photographer will try to do a better job of capturing the moments of B&P meetings in future posts.

Below is friend Shirley visiting with Julie and me this week at Mesa Manor.  She did not paint, but came along with me Tuesday to help start a small painting group at the Manor.  And she brought us her home made kraut burgers for lunch!  Our art group did not start out with much enthusiasm, but if I keep at it, more residents might likely become involved in a new outlet of mixing colors.  At the least, it spurred conversation.

Cardioversion, A Birthday, A Shawl

What do you call a "busy week?"  For just the husband and myself, the week now ending could be called filled with activity, if you consider numerous visits to various physicians and a birthday lunch a bit out of the ordinary.

Yesterday was the husband's birthday; he spent half the morning in the hospital being zapped by electricity through his heart. Actual terminology is cardioversion; he has been in atrial fibrillation for quite a while now, so that is an effort to get the heart beating correctly. This morning he said his chest felt like someone had punched him hard, poor guy. But yesterday the nurse ordered him a full breakfast and asked kitchen staff for a piece of cake since it was his birthday. Cake was not to be found, but the tray came with a cookie that I wrapped up and took back home for his dessert celebration.

Julie came home two days ago, again in the big white bus, for a lunch with relatives. She comes every Thursday now and seems to enjoy being away from the nursing home.  She says she feels like a released inmate when she travels away from there.  I hope she is kidding, I think she is kidding, but I understand.  Julie gets good care there and the staff is conscientious.  I now think of the nurses and activity directors as friends.  The on site social worker even gifts Julie various Word Chum apparel and is very fond of Julie. Julie is easy to like. 

And next week Julie has two appointments with physicians away from the Manor, so we will both take the big white bus to see a GI doc and a surgeon.  Julie will likely have an operation fairly soon to take away some diseased colon, but enough of that.

Frost was on the lawn this morning and it is below freezing during the night hours.  An owl was heard hooting around 6 AM, but he has not appeared in our owl house yet.  Gene says it sounds like a Great Horned Owl, not like the screech owl that lived in our back yard last winter.  We keep close watch on the doggies when they are outside because critters, raccoons and foxes, are coming down from the mountains in search of food.

On the knitting front, I am almost finished with another shawl for Julie.  This one I am keeping back as a Christmas present, along with a purchased flannel lounger in exactly the same colors. Notice Libby is modeling the shawl and not seeming very interested in the process.

About time to get out and to the favorite Mexican food place to get Julie and me some take-out for lunch, then on to the Manor.  I get enough for us so that I can eat with her not only on Saturdays, but also on Sunday after church.  Would that be called left over left overs?  The other lunches during the week, I usually take soup and eat with her in the Garden Room at the Manor while she has a food tray served.

Have a good weekend!

Who? Me? Cook?

"What is your favorite holiday recipe?" asked a columnist who writes for the Grand Junction Senior Beacon.  She asked, also saying that she would like to take my picture and have my favorite recipe in the upcoming November issue, along with several other contributors.  We had just come out of an evening meeting at church last week when she caught me, and I was actually thinking of how quickly I could jump into my pj's and then into a warm bed.  Food was not on my radar when the clock was nearing 9 pm.

Taken a little off-guard by her question, my first thought was of the shockingly pink cranberry relish that Susan Stamberg shared several years ago on the radio.  I had made that, and it was a bit different from what others might share.  Then I gave the old brain a minute more to think and said, "well, it is not my recipe, and err...actually, I don't cook it, because my husband is outstanding in the culinary category, but I can tell you what it is and give you an internet link to the recipe."  By this time, Writer Lady could hardly back out of her offer to feature my favorite holiday recipe. So she went ahead and took my mug shot and wrote down the information.

Here, let me just do a cut and paste job and reveal the Gene Amole Recipe for Thanksgiving Stuffing that my husband makes semi-annually (we like it with chicken in the summer, too.)

from Living The Grand Life: 

I first started posting this recipe in 2007. Folks seem to like it. We still make it every year. Here it is again so that you can get your shopping list finished. 

Gene Amole was a columnist for the Rocky Mountain News. He was a hometown writer who knew the city well and wrote on a variety of topics.

In 1982, he was looking for a Thanksgiving topic. In desperation he published his recipe for stuffing.

In 1998 he wrote about this about his recipe column: "It was a smash. I had more favorable comments about that column than anything I had written previously. Since then, I have reprinted it twice, the last time eight years ago, but I still get a flood of requests each year to send people copies because they had lost theirs."

 And so he printed the recipe one final time in November of 1998.

My wife is from the south and always had cornbread stuffing. I grew up in Denver and was used to a rather plain white bread stuffing. We adopted this recipe as a new family tradition and have enjoyed it for many years. It is a recipe that responds well to variations. I like to use a whole pound of Italian sausage and Texas pecans.

Gene Amole’s Thanksgiving Turkey Stuffing

20 slices of white bread (or use a package of dried bread cubes)
6 slices of dark, Jewish pumpernickel (don't leave this out)
1 tablespoon salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1 tablespoon sage
½ pound breakfast sausage
½ pound Italian sausage
1 cup chopped celery
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped walnuts, pecans or macadamia nuts
3 to 4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 to 2 Granny Smith or Jonathan apples
Handful of cranberries
2 cups thick-sliced mushrooms
¼ lb. butter
2 cans chicken broth
2 tablespoons Harvey's Bristol Cream or jug sherry

Gene Amole’s directions:
Now, relax. It is impossible to screw up turkey stuffing. First, let's assume you are roasting a 15-20 pound bird. You'll need about 20 slices of white bread and a half-dozen slices of dark, Jewish pumpernickel. Lightly toast and cut each slice into crouton-size cubes and put into a large bowl.

It's a good idea to mix spices separately in a small bowl. Combine a tablespoon of Salt with a teaspoon of Pepper and a tablespoon of Sage. Be careful not to use too much salt because there is salt in some of the ingredients. Next, mix the spices and sprinkle them over the bread cubes.

Now, you are ready to go to the stove. Crumble and brown in a skillet a half-pound each of breakfast sausage and Italian sausage. Drain off the grease and remove sausage with a slotted spoon and add to the bowl with the bread crumbs and spices.

Add a cup each of chopped celery, chopped onion and chopped walnuts. If you are a big spender, use macadamia nuts instead of walnuts. Add three or four tablespoons of chopped, fresh parsley. Peel, core, chop and add one or two Granny Smith or Jonathan apples. I like to mix in a handful or so of fresh cranberries for color. To all of this, add a couple of cups of mushrooms, sliced thick.

The last thing to add is the liquid. Melt a quarter-pound of butter in two cups of canned chicken broth. After it is blended, add two tablespoons of either Harvey's Bristol Creme or jug sherry. Take a little nip for yourself.

You are almost there. Drizzle the liquid over the ingredients in the large bowl. I like a reasonably fluffy stuffing. You can add more liquid if you like. Toss the bread cubes and spices with the liquid until evenly mixed.

Food science no longer recommends stuffing the bird. We make up the recipe and bake it in a ceramic casserole dish. I guess that makes it dressing as opposed to stuffing - whatever you call it, it's good.

Volunteering with Enthusiasm

Have you ever been proud of a skill that you have mastered?  

Never could I sail, run marathons, quilt, ace chemistry exams or debate with confidence, but often I could do projects with my hands. And stitching embroidery was one of those feminine and housewifery activities that I learned at my mother's knee.

I was always proud of my samplers, praised for my dexterity in pulling embroidery floss up and through fabric to make a pretty chain stitch, then moving forward to work with silk ribbons in the 90's to create more intricate patterns on lingerie or sachet pouches. I still feel accomplished in creating pretty hand work with thread ends skillfully knotted and tightly tucked under on the back side of fabric, surely worthy of a prize if entered in the "Needlework" category in any county fair.

Yesterday, I picked up our local Senior Beacon, its target audience honed to those over fifty years of age.  I was waiting for my eyes to dilate in the dimmed room provided by the ophthalmologist when I read various volunteer opportunities made available through the Beacon.  Lo and behold, there in front of my now blurred vision was a blurb that embroiderers were needed at our local quilting shop for November 14, next Saturday.  Embroiderers were requested to work on ribbons for Breast Cancer Survivors, among a few other causes.  Proceeds from the sale of the ribbons would go back to their respective charities.

source

Thinking that perhaps I could meet a few other women who had the same burning desire to share their talents for a cause, I decided to take the plunge and offer my assistance at the fabric store, if only for a few hours next weekend.  It would be fun to have coffee with a new group of people.  While there, I would peruse quilting designs.  My mind and I decided to seize this opportunity.

Carefully, I tore out that magazine notice with the published contact telephone number. Still waiting in the dimmed room, eyes becoming more blurred from the atropine drops used to dilate pupils, I could barely see the listed phone number.  But why should I wait until later to call?  When later came, I might decide to pass off the moment to share my handwork talent.  They probably really needed me.  With fierce bravado, I dialed on my mobile phone, was connected, then put on hold, then reconnected to the appropriate person designated to coordinate collective expertise of volunteers.

"Hello, my name is Nancy and I would like to volunteer a few hours next Saturday for the ribbon adornment embroidery work you are coordinating."  This felt so satisfying.  I was thinking of the finished ribbons and that maybe they might even sell for $5 each!

"We are so happy you called," the woman on the other end of the line responded, "and what hours can I put down for you?" she added.

"The afternoon would be best, maybe after 1:30," I said, reviewing in my mind that Julie and I could still have lunch together and that I could go from Mesa Manor and then home after putting in an hour or two on the ribbons.  "And should I bring my materials with me?  Will you provide patterns ?"  I was mentally taking stock of what I would take: embroidery scissors, flossing threads, needles, my magnifying glass that hung on a cord, resting on the top of my bosom, intensifying the sight area where the needle embellishment was to be worked.  I really needed both the magnifier and my bifocals to see well.  Hmm, still thinking...

Coordinating Woman responded: "Oh, yes, please bring your threads.  And what type machine do you have?  What embroidery disks do you have?  Do you have a letter font disk?"

What?  What machine did I have?  What disks?  A font?  "Oh." Ding, on went the light bulb.  "I don't have a machine.  I was talking about hand embroidery."  Cringing inwardly, I realized she was talking about machine embroidery whereas I was referring to 18th century embroidery, the skill of which I was so proud.

Coordinating Woman: "Thanks anyway, dear," pause ..."that was nice of you to offer.  Here we work with machine embroidery only."

It was then I realized that she must have thought my little crafting skill was anachronistic, certainly not of value in 2015.  After all, their business sold expensive embroidery machines, along with every costly doohickey available. They were in business to make a profit, and they make good money keeping up with technology in embroidery.

Chagrined, I inwardly shrank, felt  stupid and senior-ly old, out-of date, obsolete in not only my thinking, but also in my skill set. What a truly humbling, ego deflating experience.

Next Saturday, I will stick to cleaning  the garden area around Mesa Manor and will not be offering my old fashioned expertise to embellish ribbons with floss.

source

“You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.”  ― Colette

St. Paul and Time with Friend

What a beautiful city.  Old houses, steep roofs, a beautiful autumn weekend to spend with a friend.

A Victorian lady carved from a tree trunk.

This is the Cathedral of St. Paul, celebrating its 100th year in 2015.Kathy and I toured the Cathedral.

A trip to St. Paul MUST include a visit to the Fitzgerald Theater, home of Public Radio and Garrison Keillor.

I took the virtual mic for a photo opportunity.

We dined well, but did not find any iconic restaurant soups that Minnesota touts as comfort food.  That was odd, but the pumpkin pancakes made up for the lack of soup.

My sweet friend Kathy and me.  Be well, Kathy.  Thank you for those wonderful days with you in St. Paul.

Speakeasy Post: a Book Review

Speakeasy is an online forum for bloggers who review books.  I read books, and blog, and can give an opinion when asked.  So I signed up to be a Speakeasy  reviewer. There is very little to it, and loose deadlines: reviewers are given a month to read a free book and give an online book review.  My first book arrived via download a while back, and I have tried several times in different short reading sessions to digest it, but with little success.

Beauty as a Sense of Being by Solomon Katz was the first book I read for Speakasy.

Katz's writing is disjointed, skipping from thought to thought, each lesson or kernel of truth interspersed with free form prose, which I found distracting.  In the first two chapters (there were eight chapters in the book), I counted 42 subheadings and a half dozen interspersed prose stanzas which came from Katz through his subconcious. These subheadings appeared as if in a personal journaling type format, randomly chosen without cohesion tying in one thought to the next, rather like free form association.  These stanzas must have been of import to Katz, likely personal pointers for achieving mental health balance.

As a psychologist, the author may have helped many people along their life journeys, but this book of writings did not hold my interest because the writers' thoughts were scattered, jumping from topic to topic without transition. I did not find the book helpful.

Chapters 3-8 were skimmed over, and the style continued.  Time to move on and read another book.

Greek Tragedy at the Nursing Home

Several years ago my SIL made an analogy as to how daughter Julie and I often interact verbally and physically, especially when times are tense: we act out Greek tragedies in our communication with one another. She was so right on.

The drama at that time was about how Julie was not being careful enough while drinking a soda, thereby spilling it on herself and the floor. I chastised her, and Julie retorted in kind, scoffing at my concern.

The analogy my SIL acted out, interspersed with a Greek Chorus humming in the background, still makes me laugh. Good for the soul to laugh, but also tragically sad. But if one can't see the humor in life, that is sadder still.

So here is my latest Greek Tragedy, soon to be on Broadway (yeah, not likely) of Julie and me playing out yet another little drama in our interactions. We were at her residential facility yesterday afternoon when this newest scene occurred.

Short Synopsis of Play: Main Character, Julie, a middle aged adult woman, feels misunderstood and dismissed since her husband died and she has left the ancestral home she and her husband built together in South Carolina

Stage Set: The Garden Room of a local nursing home, several people in wheelchairs in a large open room with windows looking out onto a grassy area, locked in by doors opened only by ambulatory people with authority that hold special keys to the outside and unsafe world

Characters: Julie, her mother (me), nursing staff and other residents; unseen character is a scheduler on the telephone

Scene I: Julie is in her wheelchair, legs stretched out in front of her on leg rests, draped sheet in place over lower part of body. She sits at a sturdy card table, her wheelchair alongside table at an angle. I sit in a chair beside Julie, knitting bag containing lunch, water bottle, cell phone, and knitting accouterments scattered about on table. A few other patients in wheelchairs, dozing or just sitting, the room is large with no activity now scheduled

Room Atmosphere: Quiet, patients being wheeled to early lunch, or patients milling around the nearby hallway slowly making their way to the dining room. Ambient social noise in background

Dialogue Begins with Nurse, walking towards me: “Could you come to the phone to answer questions about a prior surgical procedure performed in South Caroline? The scheduler is needing some questions answered and maybe a signed consent.”

Me: “Be right there.” (putting down knitting project and rising from the chair)

Julie: scowling, acting offended, muttering quietly under her breath

Me: Walking twenty feet over to the phone and saying, “Hello, this is Nancy, so glad you are scheduling her for a consultation. You need a consent form signed to obtain hospital records from which physician? We have been through all this many times over the summer, and records are all over this town. Yes, yes, I do hold Power of Attorney for Julie. Yes, we can get this done fairly quickly.”

Scheduler on phone speaking unknown dialogue, me listening.

Me: “Let's call the (insert name of hospital) and just have them faxed over. What? You need ANOTHER consent form signed? All, right, the fax number is (insert numbers after hailing down a nearby nurse on her way to fix another patient problem and on whose phone I am speaking)...”

Julie: wheeling over to the nurses' station, looking even more aggravated, scowling

Me: trying to ignore Julie and concentrating on what the scheduler is trying to relay on the phone

STAGE RIGHT: Enter two nurses who have come over to the telephone/station where I am seated. They are looking concerned, hearing what is going on from their approaching vantage point and appalled that now both Julie and I have invaded their work area; nurses' eyebrows arched as they listen to our conversation

Greek Chorus: tuning up with indistinct chanting in background

Me: hanging up phone receiver, informing Julie of the date of the appointment, rising from the chair to return back to the Garden Room

Julie: (with raised voice) “WHY did she not ask for ME to schedule the appointment? Why did YOU talk to her? It is MY appointment!” (implying that Mother is interfering)

Me: (backpedaling, glancing at a small group of observers now gathered at the nursing station, both staff and patients. my voice raised): “Probably because there needs to be coordination of efforts concerning how to get you there, whether you need to be prone or in your chair, and because I would like to be there with you and you do not know my other calendar conflicts.” Way too much disgust in my voice and attitude at this point... implying that “here we go again” I am now behind Julie's wheelchair, trying to exit Stage Left

Julie: as I am wheeling her forwards “It is MY body and MY concern, so why wasn't I asked about it instead of YOU?!” Julie's body language is now of extreme consternation and she begins to cry; slowing the cries rise to a crescendo of wracking sobs

Greek Chorus: rising in volume, inaudible mumbling with sing-song background chanting

Me: after rising from the chair by the telephone and getting behind Julie's wheelchair , now pushing her onward and back toward the Garden Room, barely avoid a crash collision with another person in a wheelchair who has now made her way to the nursing station to catch the drama

Greek Chorus: continuing in background with small gasps, sighs of resignation, humming to the tune of “Oh, Me, Oh, My, What is Now Going to Happen?”) ....sound of drums beating slowly along with the low murmuring and humming of background noises. Chorus continues...

Me: Now back in the Garden Room, vacated by staff and patients, talking to Julie the entire time, trying to quieten her sobbing, saying “We all love you and want the best for you. It is hard to coordinate all efforts made in your best interests. I know your life has changed dramatically since the death of your husband, and the change has affected my life as well.” (Talking perhaps too loudly for emphasis)

Julie: “I just feel like I do not have control over anything anymore. When I lived in South Carolina, I made my OWN doctor appointments.” Wracking sobs given by Julie, Chorus grows louder

Me: “Yes, but that was THEN. Now you live in a place where all efforts need to be coordinated as far as transportation and yours and my life all need to work together.”

Chorus in background: “yes, indeed, yes indeed” (sung in a three note cadence, two beats up, one beat down) “YES INDEED YES INDEED” repeated three times

Me: “Are you OK, are we good now?”

Julie: sniffing, wiping nose with back of right hand, sniveling

Chorus: chanting, “Mother was Wrong, Mother was Wrong!” Chanting slowly and softly fades into background...”mother was wrong, mother was wrong”

Julie: feeling wronged, giving up the sobs to quietly playing Word Chums on iPad...

Me: slinking off after giving her a kiss, feeling miserable having made this scene occur, having felt like I have done her wrong by trying to do right by her..feeling embarrassed by all this fuss...

Chorus: fades from chanting into ambient background noise...

END OF SCENE

Post Script: Activity Director reports later that Julie was acting happy, engaged with dominoes with other residents, relishing the cheese and crackers snack within half an hour after my departure from the scene of the drama. Go figure.

Brush & Palette October Demonstration

With the 2015 Brush and Palette Fine Arts Show paintings creating a Hollywood backdrop (89 entries) on the Grand Junction Art Center walls, Ann Kurz Chambers took center stage with her demonstration on October 15, 2015.

A multi-faceted artist with a published book of wildflowers, cranberry products, and more, Chambers showed how to create landscapes with oils on pieces of wood previously gessoed with a white background. 

Her creations are unique, and she paints quickly, proficiently. She emphasized that all art supplies and items are conserved, no matter the age of oils in tubes. She returns to her paintings that have been long neglected, perhaps laying against a corner of her studio, and fine tunes them in multi media ways using gesso and layers of paper or found objects. 

Chambers often uses hardwood by-products supplied by her son. Most of the wood provided by her son is special Engelmann spruce wood that he uses in his violin making.

Recap of Chambers’ demonstration:

Supplies:

oil paints, turpentine, turpentine in spray bottle to retain moisture on surface, Liquin, panels of wood, fiberboard, canvas, canvas board, masonite, gesso, brushes, rags, protective gloves

Method:

• Apply several layers of gesso to chosen surface object
• Apply the layers several times, laying on more gesso in the opposite direction of the prior layer
• Sand lightly after each gesso layer has dried
• When background is to your liking, apply oils (saturated with Liquin for ease of application and to aid in drying)

Several Finished Chambers’ Objects:

One Stitch at a Time

It just occurred to me that I have not yet shown knitting progress on a kit I purchased soon after Julie and I returned to Colorado in May.

That month of May in South Carolina was a complete wash in terms of knitting. Even if there had been time to sit down and knit, there was not a whit of concentration left in my frazzled mind.  So just as well that my hands had a break from the needles.

During June, I finished one of The Yarn Harlot books.  A story she wrote stuck with me when she talked about a woman in her circle of friends who took on the daunting task of beginning to knit a blanket, a huge one.  The woman in the story decided to begin this project while in the midst of several personal crises, including severe depression and the break up of her marriage.  McFee, aka The Yarn Harlot, went on to write that this woman, stitch by stitch, finished one row and then another, day by day, week by week. Lo and behold, after a year, the blanket was completed.  Somehow, the working of the project, the clearing of the mind, that entire process of making a blanket required a different sort of concentration of efforts.  And it resulted in more than just a finished blanket. With the ending of that enormous knitting effort, her depression had lifted and she had made important decisions, including one to end her marriage.  What determination she had.

Back to my tie-in and identification with the woman who undertook that blanket project.  No, I am not leaving my husband. But I did decide to order from a Norwegian designer who had put together kits for the most determined of knitters.  Those who had knit up this daunting project took months to complete it, according to their notes on Ravelry.  So I took the mental plunge back in June and bought the kit, knowing I would eventually complete it because I must finish what I start... a compulsion.  It may take a while to complete, but each completed stitch will work toward good mental health.

So this is the Promenade Shawl now on the needles, started in June:

But then I got distracted with other projects, like knitting up Julie's acrylic shawl just in time for cool weather.

She wore it yesterday on her Wednesday visit to our house.  Her aide helped to choose the dress from her closet to match the shawl, and got her ready.  Julie was all smiles when Dennis delivered her to our curb.  Gene made guacamole and tacos at her request.



Joining in with Ginny and her Yarn Along!

Julie and I took a leisurely wheel over to the hospice restaurant again this week. After thinking about the Ezra book and praying about the situation, it went much better than our first outing there. Thank you all for your kind comments about the Very Busy woman, by the way.  (And no, I have not heard from Her again.)

Here we are in the sun before our lunch.  A kind gentleman snagged from a nearby bench was the photographer.

Recipes tried this week: Beer Bread, and Rosemary Bread, thanks to Stephanie who blogs here.  Ya'll have a good weekend!

Another Simple Knit Shawl

Fall begins tomorrow, so we hear. Pope Francis arrives in the US today.

And another, yes another, shawl is in the works. Yarn, courtesy of Knit Picks, all acrylic, which goes against my yarn snobbery instinct for wool.  But it can't be beat for wash-ability.  

Julie chose her colors, neither picture showing up quite as the eye sees the pinks and magenta. The pattern is knitting up quickly.

When I show any knitting project to some of the women residents where Julie lives, they almost always comment on attached knitting markers.  It seems that the little markers catch their eye as much as the colors.  Or perhaps it is merely a conversation starter.

Hobby Lobby had some cute labels in a 9" x 24" panel.  You are supposed to cut them out and attach to clothing, after writing your name on the inside with permanent ink.  Clever.

Our roses have been prolific this year.  And they continue to bloom now.  I picked up several inexpensive glass bottles, vases, for give away rose containers, and it is again time to buy more since those roses just will not give up production.  The cup holders in the car make perfect little containers for the blooms in the little brightly colored glass holders.  The rose leaves are almost half eaten by some critters, so I probably have not been a good steward of feeding them fertilizer and bug killer.  Will rectify that this morning before the clouds roll in.

Pope Francis comes to the US today.  Interesting reads about the pontiff here and here and here (re-branding the faith?).  Gene and I are attending RCIA classes on Tuesday evenings, and there has been some good discussion there.

(almost life-like)

Brush & Palette 2015-2016 Begins Anew

Fall has arrived and it brings a new year to the Grand Junction Brush & Palette organization.

Last week, Sarah Dishong from Interiors, Etc. presented the September program, discussing current framing trends.  She asked that members bring in one finished, unframed piece of artwork so that she could make specific presentation and framing suggestions. Sarah discussed material trends, design and balance for matting and framing.

Sarah suggested the artwork sample above be framed with a lighter frame and either a fillet or white matt to offset the piece.

Trends for the coming  year include:

• using lighter colored fillet or matts so that the painted work is not distracted by colors
• using lighter colors around the artwork in a more neutral hue will not be off-putting to the buyer of the art
• using barn wood for frames has not come back into vogue
• metallic frames are still somewhat dated, not coming back soon
• likewise, colored metallic frames are also somewhat dated
• using lighter creams or whites for fillets/matts are suggested, especially for pieces that one wants to sell

Sarah Dishong, on the left, with Deborah Robinson, Show Coordinator for the Brush & Palette club.  (Picture taken at the Art Center, where monthly shows are held for the Brush & Palette organization.)

left to right: Emilie Olbert, Brooks Powell

Lise MacGregor, pastel artist, won the September Mini-Show

Next month, the Brush & Palette will meet on October 15, again at The Western Colorado Center for the Arts, aka "The Art Center."

The October presentation will be given by Ann Kurtz Chambers, mixed media artist.  Ann will demonstrate techniques of painting on miniature gessoed wood panels with oils.  She will also show how to prepare the wood panel, and show a fun, fast two-stage process that will create an abstract painting.  All are welcome, and we are always on the look out for new members and presenters!

Squint, It Makes Things Prettier

Trying to see things in a better light, here goes another rant. Why is it so difficult to get people to do their jobs?  

After over two months waiting for a physician specialist consult for Julie, the paperwork still has not been forwarded to the gastroenterology group practice.  Every time I have asked about when the specialist would see her, the answer was that it "just takes time" or that "it is in the orders, just wait."  Conceding that the inquiry had been made and we were just waiting for follow-up, I got fed up after waiting over two months with nothing happening. So in tears, I created a minor stir-up at the nurses' station yesterday. Sure enough, the orders were not sent to the physician group by the person responsible for this seemingly minor task.  

And that inhaler Julie asked for three weeks ago?  Still not in hand. Thanks to her diligent nurse, yesterday we at least got some answers and medication now is available for J's asthma.  We shall see if the consultation is forthcoming.

Sigh.  I hated to channel Shirley MacLaine in Terms of Endearment, but, yes, I was ranting.  JUST GIVE HER THE DAMN MEDICINE!  Thank you, Debbie.  Blessings on you. Maybe the consult will come through, also.

Julie asked for red highlights from the beautician at Mesa Manor, similar to Julianne Moore.  She got highlights for sure, but more like Cyndi Lauper...

Just squint...and the red looks softer

I can, with one eye squinted, take it all as a blessing.

The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O'Connor

Following Ezra; A Few Thoughts

A friend sent me a book.  Not just any book, but a special one which has received a lot of good press, Following Ezra..., by Tom Fields-Meyer.  Many lessons are gleaned from what the autistic boy, Ezra, teaches his father over a nine years period in Ezra's childhood.

Dad learns to appreciate Ezra, in spite of all the frustrations of raising a child with autism.  He truly appreciates and marvels at Ezra. The author holds on as strongly as his son does to what he knows is right for his middle son.  When he insists Ezra must work on good behavior for a month in order to earn a new Homer toy, Ezra indeed does earn the inflatable Homer. I laughed that actually Ezra got little from the lesson regarding good behavior, other than that persistence pays off. " I Got Him!,"  Ezra says.

Sometimes the lessons we try to teach only enforce our own stubbornness and show us up in our own rigidity. 

In the prologue of Following Ezra, Fields-Meyer describes his quest of searching for the right doctors, diets, medicines and therapies. But what he discovers is that he has been focusing on the wrong thing: "It wasn't about finding the right expert for my child; it was about learning to be the right parent," he writes.  (source)

Those preceding words written, my diatribe follows.  Do not read if you are an advice giver.  Because I really do not want advice, I just want to vent.

A woman called me yesterday afternoon, shortly after I had returned from visiting Julie at the nursing home.  She is a Very Busy woman, reinforcing this message as she told me of her active working life.  Her take-away message was that I needed to take care of myself, and that not only did I need to wean myself away from being Julie's main source of consolation, but that I also needed to help her find new friends and new interests.

I hung up the phone, amazed that this Person had both the audacity and undertook the right to tell me how to take charge of middle aged Julie, a person whom she has never met.  Then I thought back to the Ezra book, and realized the irony of Busy Woman believing she had the privilege to tell me how to best shepherd my daughter Julie, whom she has not taken the time to meet or to visit (who actually wants to go to a nursing home? ... I get it).  I doubt she has been around very many handicapped people throughout her lifetime.

It is not like I am devoting my life to Julie.  I spend two or three hours daily with her.  She cannot even turn over in bed by herself, much less bathe, make wheelchair transfers or care for her pressure sores.  How would she eat without food being taken to her on a tray?  Julie's strabismus makes reading difficult.  She has poor fine motor skills, prone to dropping objects.  And what activities could I help her engage in?  Bingo at the nursing home is a highlight on weekends.  She does that alone. How else can I help goad her on to other "activities" when all such outside interests must be wheelchair accessible, along with an aide to accompany her because of the colostomy and urostomy bags always underneath her chair, ready to blow at the most inopportune times? And how is she supposed to make friends?  Where in the world is she to find friends within the confines of the walls of the nursing home, when most there are one or two generations older than she?  (She has made "friends" with her aides, but a prisoner cannot consider the jailer a friend, even in war time.)

What was this Very Busy woman thinking in telling me to help Julie find new friends and outside activities?  

Dear reader, do not worry too much about me.  Yes, I have lost weight.  Yes, I am anxiety ridden.  But I am taking good care of myself.

Ezra's father took care of his son in a way not many understood or condoned.  The Dad pulled screaming Ezra off a wall without losing his temper while onlookers made judgment about an adult allowing a child to throw a tantrum; I have made similar accusations many a time.  But Abba (daddy) did what he thought best.  With God's help, I plan on continuing looking out for Julie in a similar manner.  It all goes back to the Sisters of Charity Mission Statement that I have adhered to even after my retirement from health care administration: providing for the vulnerable, marginalized population in a caring, loving way.

source

The Kindness of Strangers

Friend Carol (we met in 1973 while at MSU in Lansing, Michigan) sent an email to her friends, none of whom is known to me.  She asked her acquaintances to mail Julie a card on her birthday to cheer her. After all, our daily visits while she lives in the nearby nursing home can only occupy her for a few hours during the day. And Carol knew that, so she sent out a mailing asking for people to send Julie a birthday card, her first one as a widow.

The response was gratifyingly sweet with over a dozen birthday wishes being mailed out to Julie. Cards came from Kentucky, North Carolina, Texas, Indiana, Louisiana and Colorado.  Julie is a Big Kid when it comes to birthdays and loves the fal-de-rah of a celebration. Gene is making her some Mexican food and purchasing a cheese cake, at her request, for her most-of-the-day visit at our house.  A special van will bring her in her chair for the party.

Thank you, all of you, for the cards.

Thank you, Australian Sheep

"When in Scotland," free pattern, took less than two weeks to knit up.  Finished size after blocking: 80" x 33"

The wool, again, thank you John, was hand spun from fleeces of sheep that grazed in Australia.  The dyeing was from both natural flowers and acid dyes.

Friend Natalie is knitting her shawl from the natural, undyed colors of the sheep from fleeces John spun:

And this is Dottie's slipper, one she is making.  Again, from John's spun wool:

Julie:

Yesterday was a stressful day as it was an outing with Julie.  Gene and I wheeled her across the street from Mesa Manor and around the hospice campus to the accessible restaurant operated by HopeWest, Spoons Bistro & Bakery, where most proceeds go back to hospice.  Julie seemed to enjoy getting out, eating under an umbrella, and touring the grounds.  It was a pretty day, very hot and sunny, so the climate added to the milieu of the many flowers in bloom. But I failed to take a camera.

After getting Julie back to the nursing home and settled, I arrived home physically and emotionally exhausted.  Julie's social skills and perceptions are not that of the average; crying on both our parts is generally par.  The husband, as usual, was stalwart.  He suggested I read a book on dealing with adolescent autistic people, of which neither category of "adolescent" nor "autistic" exactly fits into her persona.  But there are certain similarities in both aspects of the terms as to how she deals with life.  I will give it a go and do more reading.  Maybe I can better learn how to deal with her when she is around other people in social settings.  My expectations are apparently too great.  Or maybe just unrealistic.