It's not even close to finished, but the important thing is that I'm writing again. Nothing is going to stop me; I may be slow, but I'm still going!
Mother
of Myhha
She
sprawled over her tatty old armchair; one leg stretched out before
her whilst the other dangled, jangled, and flopped over a ragged arm.
A softly chubby hand, complete with dimpled knuckles, restlessly
stroked the disintegrating cover of her ancient copy of Rudyard
Kipling's Just So Stories.
“
But
the wildest of all the wild animals was the Cat. He walked by
himself, and all places were alike to him.”
It
was a good thing she'd long ago memorized those lines written by Mr.
Kipling, as her eyes were too blurred to read them from aught but
memory just now. They had always resonated with her but never more
than at present, when her heart ached and quivered within her chest
and her stomach threatened to batter it's way through her
clenched teeth.
There will be more, when it's ready... hope your weekend is a good one!
Just a very few weeks ago, less than three, I posted a video HeRe to show how severe my tremors were becoming. A few days later and my short and shakiness had landed in, of all places, Florida, where I'm spending some quality time with my mother. I need to do another video soon, to demonstrate how lovely and calm it is when the tremors are at their minimum. Which they are. My blood pressure has dropped and my heart isn't galloping or giving out with odd, extra beats either.
Bliss.
The weather is practically perfect just now. Mid 80's F. (29.4 +/- C.) and mildly breezy; mostly clear skies with occasional showers. Suitable weather for a residence slightly south of a town named Frostproof.
Is it possible, do you think, to fall in love with a place? This isn't coastal Florida, not Miami nor the Keys... not even Disney. We're in the middle of the state, where oranges, cattle and old people are the main industries. You can drive for miles on two lane roads and see scarcely another vehicle and the 'old' architecture looks like this:
There are lovely little towns, like the one called Labelle, where much of the population is Hispanic. There are old-style tacquerias whose like I haven't seen since I was last in California and on a quiet Sunday afternoon you'll see soccer teams made up of every age playing in the local church yards. Dotted around the streets are vendors, with lines stretching along the streets, waiting to buy handmade tamales, carnitas, Mexican street corn and sinfully sweet empanadas.
Here, where Mom lives, it's quiet: small town - almost country - quiet. I think I've heard one siren in all the time I've been here; a body can relax into the sussuration of wind playing amongst the palm fronds. A rather pleasant melody to accompany gardening, which I did a bit of yesterday, potting up a few things for Mom.
A 'black' cherry tomato.
Must have lavender, of course, and a butterfly bush for Mom's beloved butterflies.
Mom and I spent Sunday, last, with a family friend and her daughter; Mom and Judy have been friends for years, as have Melody and I.
Mom is in the lighter blouse.
And I have had my hair chopped off again.
It struck me, as we were returning from our day out, just how relaxed and happy I felt.
Oh, and if any of you are Shania Twain fans, here is a part of her McCompound on Marco Island, Florida.
Oh, and just because I can (and because he's a friend and extremely prolific writer) I'm including this blurb today:
May I introduce George... first, perched on the back of the bench, then admiring the larger than life size statue of himself.
Today, George brought along a little friend. Being the original sort, I named her Georgiana.
Not quite as cuddly as the pooches.
Since they were relaxing on Mom's very colourful little porch, I'd guess they were ... wait for it ... lounge lizards.
Mom seems to prefer the company of seahorses. And bluebirds.
I rather like Mom's very brightly coloured plants.
Here, we are surrounded by orange groves and cattle... not too terribly far away is the Cosa Nostra cattle ranch; I do believe I shall keep a healthy distance from it. Still, how many towns can boast a HUGE lake like Lake Jackson in the centre?
At the bottom of this post, where I usually share a music video, is a short video of the 'tremor stage' I'm in... it can, and usually will, get much worse before it gets better. My voice is getting softer and huskier so you may need to raise the volume to hear me clearly.You can describe, apologise and try to explain until you're blue in the face, but actually seeing something beats all that, hands down.
Yes, that's our now two years old Geraldo with me. Happy Birthday Geraldo! (2 April.)
I'd said, a wee while back, that my tremors were getting worse and they are. If it follows the usual pattern, then they'll get much worse and I could lose my ability to speak... again. It's a temporary thing but I still hate it really quite a lot. It's anyone's guess how long this spell will last. As a consequence, I won't be posting much but will try to visit your blogs as I'm able. Facebook is where I can be found right now, it's a way to keep in touch and it's just... easier. Easier is good.
This is also an apology to those whose emails I haven't returned, etc . . . Emails aren't easy right now. Annnd, this post is getting too long, watch the video and mayhap you'll see why easy is better for me just now. Many thanks to the kidling for making this video.
I have a confession to make. Despite what I wrote on my last blog post: 'Right now, I'm taking it as very positive that Jim has made it to this stage in the 'vetting process for the transplant, many don't.' I have been worried sick. For those who didn't follow my old blog... Six family members died in a 6 month period last year, including siblings and my Pop. How could I not worry? Whilst there is still room for worrying, (worrywart being my middle name) we've been given good news and a reason to celebrate. After, as he put it, "three days of poking and prodding" at the Indiana University Medical Center he's made the list! That doesn't, however, mean that he will have the lung transplant immediately. He goes back in July for a series of injections to help prepare his body for the surgery and to find out where he is on the waiting list. He'll have a single lung transplant, which will give him a few more good years; certainly more than he would have otherwise. You can find information about lung transplants >Here<.
Speaking of Jim, the nephew who shared the second magnolia photo on the last post is his son Dana. This is Dana and his partner, Stefanie.
I find it mildly irritating that this is the 'heaviest' he's been in his life... like my father and Jim, (and my own true love) he's a lean, mean, eatin' machine. Harrumph!
Surprise bonus: His two daughters, Kyleigh and Charlie.
Who knows, I may be able to concentrate on writing now.
