The Story I Want To Tell

That last two months have been all about LaLaKnee, the adventure in knee replacement surgery. Do you want to know the most common question I'm asked?

Here it is...

"You just had one replaced?"

For the record...

Yes, I only had one knee replaced. The surgery is debilitating and I can't imagine having them both done at the same time. I know it's common practice these days, but let me tell you something folks...it HURTS, recovery is a LONG and HARD process and physical therapy is a BITCH.

It also takes a village to recuperate. My mom stayed with me for 6 weeks, the Lovely Linda held vigil at the bedside until I could go home and wonderful friends organized and brought delicious meals every day. Two households took in Miss Mocha and cared for her like she was their own little brown dog child. Folks came and laid healing hands on me when my body was doing everything it could to reject LaLaKnee. Volunteers split up my duties at the Retreat Center until I was strong enough to come home and continued to come when I realized I wasn't strong enough to do it all.

These gestures of kindness and love make my heart swell and my eyes water. That's the story I want to tell.

Morning Has Broken

I love sitting in my big comfy chair, watching the day evolve from the dusky blur of pre-dawn to the first rays of golden sunlight setting the multi-colored leaves afire. With the window slightly open, a crisp breeze wakes me from the toes up and makes the first cup of coffee that much more delicious.

Fall is my time of year. I was born on the Autumnal Equinox and have always felt the tide of seasonal change in my bones.

It's good to be home. It's good to be reunited with the Brown One. It's good to see my stuff and it's good to be on this land that sings Autumn (and every other season for that matter).

I won't bore you with all the pre/post surgery details. Here's a thumbnail sketch: surgery was very successful. The new knee is securely in place and has been named...La La Knee. I've had to relearn how to use all the muscles in my left leg. Physical therapy is as tough as everyone said it would be. It's been going well until this week, when we hit a plateau. We made a little progress yesterday, so hopefully, this will continue. My mom has been with me since before surgery and it's been great to have her here. We've not had this kind of time together since I was a teenager. It's been interesting to get to know her where she is in her life now. She's going back to Texas in a week or so. I think we're both ready.

The best medicine has been all the friends who've called, written, emailed and showed up with meals every day. It's good to be a part of a caring, compassionate and loving community. I could not have healed as quickly as I have without their love and support. How to say thank you to these folks in a way that denotes the magnitude of love and gratitude I feel in my heart eludes me.

The Lovely Linda has had her hands full during this time. Suffice it to say, she'd have been a willing subject for cloning. Sadly, her beloved Irish Terrier Kenzie became ill shortly before I had surgery and the vets were never able to determine the cause. After days and weeks of trying everything humanly possible, Linda had to make the heart-wrenching decision to let her go. That I couldn't be with her and Kenzie in her last days lingers as a pain in my heart.

So, morning has broken for us all. Each day a chance to get a little stronger, be a little more joyful, hold everyone with a little more appreciation.

Scraps of Wisdom.16

When you plant lettuce, if it does not grow well, you don't blame the lettuce. You look for reasons it is not doing well. It may need fertilizer, or more water, or less sun. You never blame the lettuce.

Yet if we have problems with our friends or our family, we blame the other person. But if we know how to take care of them, they will grow well, like the lettuce. Blaming has no positive effect at all, nor does trying to persuade using reason and argument. That is my experience. If you understand, and you show that you understand, you can love, and the situation will change.

- Thich Nhat Hanh

No Time Like the Present

It finally happened, a date has been set for knee replacement surgery. Show time is September 10th at high noon. There's so much to do between now and then that the Blogosphere, Facebook Nation and Twitter World are going to have to live without me for a while.

Speaking of living without me, it occurred to me there's the possibility (slim at best) that I might not wake up from surgery. Like I don't have enough to think about, now I have these passing thoughts about Mocha, the people I love, my stuff and do I need to make amends with anyone before September 10th?

My mom is coming for a month to help take care of me. Should be interesting. I'm looking forward to our time together. Since I've moved to Tennessee, we're not only separated by miles, but by something I can't quite put my finger on. Am hoping we'll get to reconnect in a meaningful way and not just talk about the weather and swap recipes...you know what I mean? Oh that's it, we relate on a superficial level now and I'd like to go deeper. Will stick a pin in that thought so it doesn't float away.

Between now and September 10th, I'll be a blur. After September 10th, I'll be medicated, doing physical therapy and getting my mobility back.

Until next time...take good care and enjoy the gift of today.

The Great Plane

each morning
i raise the window,
a small part of the day
slides in

with its bent rays of light
or not
its riot of color
or not
its stretching, yawning sounds
or not

each morning
i raise the window
to gently rock my life awake

some days are clear,
on this morning
dew clings to the glass
the tell-tale trail of a snail

who’s crossed the great pane
in the night
loops left to right
or is it right to left?

each morning
i raise the window,
sometimes just a crack
other times fully open

a window a mind
a heart a soul
it’s what slides in
or not
it’s what bypasses reasoning
or not

that sends us looping
across the great plane
left to right
or right to left

The Cathedral Basilica of Saint Louis

41.5 million pieces of tesserae were used to create 83,000 square feet of mosaic in The Cathedral Basilica of Saint Louis. Spanning 75 years, three generations of artisans shaped the images depicting faith, history, art and architecture.

Recently, the Lovely Linda and I traveled to St. Louis to celebrate the 25th anniversary of dear, dear friends Larry and John. On our way to the Saint Louis Art Museum, we turned into the parking lot at the Cathedral, "just to stop for a minute and take quick look."

Ha!

This is not a space entered into casually or briefly. When the heavy oak doors whispered shut and our eyes adjusted to the natural light, we gasped in disbelief. Soaring overhead, inlaid under our feet, on virtually every vertical and horizontal surface, mosaic.

As we silently moved into the body of the cathedral, we were cloaked in awe. Not knowing which way to turn or where to look first, we wandered without direction.

Shortly after arriving, we realized a private mass was being held in the Blessed Sacrament chapel. The priest's voice was barely audible, but when the nuns began to sing, I collapsed into a pew and held my breath. Yes, their voices and harmonies were beautiful, but the notes seemed to be tinged in gold, glinting off tiny pieces of tesserae over their heads.

It felt a violation of the sacred to take photographs, so I took very few. Although these hardly begin to capture the grandeur of the Cathedral, they do speak to the intimacy of the moment.

You can see/learn more by checking out their website.

Silence

It just happened, one of my favorite experiences. Sitting in my big comfy chair on a Sunday morning, I am aware the retreat house is bathed in silence. No equipment is humming, no footsteps upstairs, no road noise filtering through the window, just the gentle breathing of a sleeping dog.

These are the moments I cherish, the moments I hold deep inside as a reservoir of calm. These are the moments I pull from my core when all is chaos, all is confusion.

Soon though, I'll want to hear the chirp and chatter of birds jockeying for a prime spot on the bird feeder. The laptop will be set aside, the window raised and a fresh cup of coffee poured. I'll settle back into my comfy chair and let the morning drift past me on a cool breeze.

This is life well spent.

Rules for the Dance

Scansion, macron and breve...OH MY!

I'm up to my elbows unlocking the door to reading and writing metrical verse. I know, stop with the sexy talk.

Seriously, this is fun and it involves math and maybe even a little music. Anything that can make me buddy up to math isn't all that bad, considering I've held a grudge against it since the 2nd grade.

"Rules for the Dance", a book by Mary Oliver, is both technical and inspirational.

Not to worry...I'll still be cranking out the free verse, but it's good to stretch the brain and appreciate works from another era.

I wonder though which came first...the rules or the verse?

Untitled

if my heart did loiter
on the pretense
of the metaphor

it was only
for a summer, lost
under the flaming sanguine sky

intent on blistering
where once
there were soft places

reaching,
reaching,
reaching to an other world



Written in response to Read Write Prompt #83

You Know You Live In The Country When...

a grasshopper sets off your car alarm.

Yes, while enjoying an unusually cool summer morning in Middle Tennessee, I heard the sound of a car alarm in the distance. Odd...that's not something you usually hear at the Retreat Center. Up the staircase and out the door, I realize it's my car...hmm. Go back downstairs to get the keys and the alarm thingy that hasn't worked in oh...2 years and go back upstairs. The alarm stops blaring all by itself as I'm half way down the sidewalk, but can see I've left the car window open overnight. When I look inside, there's a very large, very green grasshopper walking on the dashboard looking for a way out. Every time he walks across a sensor on the dashboard, the alarm goes off. Quite a rattling experience for us all, I must say.

Let Them Eat Cake!

My love for tchotchkes has been rekindled by neighbors Joanne and Kathryn. As a thank you for taking care of Mr. Zito, they gifted me with this:

The Marie Antionette Action Figure, with ejectable head!

Whether in her queenly robes or various states of undress she is, in a word, D-I-V-I-N-E.

And don't knock the educational qualities of the blisterboard on which she was packaged. Every inch is filled with fun facts about the beheaded queen (her weapon of choice: cleavage) and bonus guillotine facts, my favorite of which is #8, "It is believed that a victim can remain conscious for up to thirty seconds after decapitation." Yikes!

Thanks neighbors...who needs a stinkin' Barbie Doll?!?

Intuition

when a cloud
eclipses my face
a brow raises, the eyes narrow

so as to see better in the dark

when full lips
stretch into a thin line
the head tilts, slightly to the right

so as to hear the unspoken meaning

you may think
my piercing gaze
the sign of an inquisitive mind

you’d be wrong

it’s the little man,
awakened by your
near truths, your masked emotions

clawing his way to the surface

to get a closer look
so he can touch you, feel you,
taste the air escaping your lungs

his greatest desire

to be birthed
to be fully grown
to live in the light

will never be realized

for what would become
of the whole
without his watchful eye?

little man…intuition

intuition…little man

Written in response to: Read, Write Prompt #82: Ode to Your Homunculus

Clematis Viorna

Say good morning to Clematis Viorna aka the Leather Flower.

This sweet, nodding flower greeted us on the trail as we walked into the woods this morning. Isn't it lovely? A native vine, it's scarce in the lower mountains and I've never seen/noticed it at Penuel Ridge before today. It looks as if fairies might live inside its bell-shaped mouth.

My Personal Declaration of Independence - 2009

The hamster wheel has spun 360 degrees and it's time to take a dive into the recesses of me. What am I looking for? Evidence of things I allow to hold me hostage. It's pretty easy to spot since I put down the tar paper a few years back. I just look for dark, sticky footprints on my insides and follow them till I find the little bastards in the dark crevices of my spirit. The miner's hat with the light on top helps, but I've gotten so good at this I can see them in the dark, smell their stench that singes my nose, like hot tar on a roof in August.

So, what's on the list for 2009?

In 2009, I declare my independence from:

1. Waiting

and

2. Pain

Waiting may seem to be an odd choice as some might confuse waiting with patience. They are not the same. For me, waiting is a legacy I learned from my mother. It means sitting passively by until someone else makes a decision or takes an action that will fulfill me. It's an act of marking time in place, not moving backward, but not moving forward either.

and

Pain of the physical. It's time to manifest wellness and declare NO MORE PAIN that robs me of creativity, energy and compassion.

So there you have it, my personal declaration of independence for 2009. I'm going to need your help so brace up for a year of liberation soldiers!

Double Take

our desire
to be coupled with others
illusory

when all-the-while

our desire is
to be coupled
with ourselves

pairing the best in us
pairing the worst in us
paring of the virulent
through a shrinking lens

How much to cut away
before you get to the truth
of who you are?

Written in response to ReadWritePrompt #81

Photo Prompt Credit: XX by oncle Jim

Haiku Contest

Hello pals of mine! We've been without a contest at Texas2Tennessee for quite some time. I guess I was waiting for the right image to come along and lo and behold it appeared in my garden this very day.

I've offered a haiku to capture my delight in picking the first ripe tomato of the season. Your challenge is to craft one of your very own. Please leave it in comments along with a link to your contact information.

Haiku rules are a 5-7-5 syllable rhythm, i.e. the first line has 5 syllables, second line has 7 syllables, third line has 5 syllables. There are other pesky rules, but I want you to be able to create freely.

The prize...a home baked pie of your choosing. I know you out-of-towners are at a disadvantage but I'll be fair and we'll figure out a way to get a pie to you if you win!

Ok...have at it! The deadline is Monday, July 5th.

first of the season

tomato jubilation

boy, is my face red*

*Is that a tomato in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?

My apologies to Mae West.

Six-Word Memoirs

Can you tell your life story in six words? You can browse my six-word memoir and that of others here.

Laugh outloud today. Go ahead, I dare you.

Flight Mode

The Shit Fairy laid a big one last week and sent me into flight mode. A typical Libra trait, it means dropping everything and getting the hell out. Luckily I already had a weekend planned with the lovely Linda, so the timing was good.

I threw the dog and some stuff in the car last Thursday and pointed us east through the Great Smokey Mountains and beyond. We played tag with a vicious storm along I40 and pulled into the lovely Linda's driveway just in time to get ourselves and the luggage inside before the sky opened up.

If you have been visited by the Shit Fairy and find yourself in flight mode, here's a recipe to reclaim your joy:

Ingredients

1 - SUV
16 gallons of gas
1 - 50 lb dog (ripe with unconditional love)
2 to 4 lanes of good road

Mix together and drive for 6 hours into the waiting arms of someone who loves you.

Add:

Comfort food (nachos and guacamole are good starters)
Walking in the sunshine
Taking a nap (or two) together
More dogs (as many as your SUV will hold)
Laughter
Shared silence
Waterfalls
Bird song
Rushing rivers
Soaring mountains
Massage oil

Mix 2 or more into the same day and savor until your joy returns. This may take longer for some than for others.

Happy Un-Father's Day Dad

For all the times
you dangled me in front of your friends
like chattel, thank you.

Your willingness
to trade my innocence
for some small measure of acceptance
has made me the woman I am today.

For all the times
you berated me, my mother, sister and brother,
thank you.

Your proclivity
for choosing a public forum
to trumpet your disenchantment
taught us the meaning of shame.

My inheritance from you is rich…
intelligence, charm, distinctive blue eyes,
wiggling my ears and yes,
the ability to hold a grudge.

For all the times
you confided in me
during our private talks, thank you.

Your oratory skills
were unsurpassed
as you recalled wistfully
the women you’d bedded, besides my mother.

For every un-Fatherly gesture, word or act,
I thank you for teaching me
how to become numb.

You’re the best un-Father I ever had.

Yours most truly,

The Absent Daughter

Seriously Y'all...

Yesterday, I was evaluated for vocational aptitude. The testing took 3 hours and covered math skills, spelling, reading comprehension, vocabulary, spacial relations, hand dexterity skills, etc... Believe it or not, this is part of the a program I've applied to that would pay for knee replacement surgery. It's really a proactive program based on the premise that the state would spend less money providing restorative medical care to folks than having to pay out social security, disability and housing for the rest of our natural lives. Job training and placement after the restorative medical care is part of the program. That's all fine and good except I already have a job and restorative medical care will help me keep my job and housing.

I was concerned about being tested for math. It wasn't my strongest subject in school and I actually considered buying some flash cards to brush up. Pause for a moment and have a seat at the multiplication table without a calculator. See? I shouldn't have been so concerned. I whizzed through the addition, subtraction, multiplication and long division problems. Then I froze. Before me were fractions, percentages, problems involving fractions and percentages, solving for "n", solving for "y", solving for "x" and then the dreaded pi (and I don't mean apple). The room went dark, I saw stars and thought I was going to faint. I looked at the kind-hearted state employee in charge of the testing and mouthed the word "help".

Sweaty palms and a dry mouth didn't deter me. We plowed through his neat pile of papers and then we came to what I can best describe as a questionnaire. A list of 60 or so statements that I would read and then indicate whether the statement was: a) very much like me, b) somewhat like me, c) not like me at all. The focus of the questions seemed to be skewed toward learning/study habits, i.e. "I like to learn in a room with bright lights." or "I like to sit at a desk when I am studying." You get the drift. So I'm plowing through these soul-revealing questions when I get to one that causes me to burst out laughing and utter, "You have got to be kidding me!" Here's the statement:

"Lifting and moving things helps me show others how strong I am."

Seriously y'all...it took a few minutes to recover from that one. I was so throwed off I answered "a" instead of "c".

But I've saved the best for last...the Manual Speed and Dexterity test. Seriously y'all...I asked the dude if I could have a copy of it to post on my blog, but he firmly said, "no". The best way I can describe it is ugly geometric wallpaper from the 70's. A patter sort of like this:

v

^

*

v

^

*

v

^

*

v

This pattern was printed vertically on the page, 28 sets of these inverted V's and 19 rows of them running left to right. (really sorry I don't have the visual for you). Anyway...the instructions were for me to draw a vertical line from the bottom of the v to the top of the inverted v as many times as I could in a 5 minute period. Seriously y'all...I just looked at the dude and asked, "really?" He said, "yeah." So off I went, drawing straight lines, the whole time talking to the testing dude and letting him know what I'd really like to do is draw some diagonal lines, maybe a few flowers and a smiley face. Testing dude was amused.

So...after 3 hours of testing, the end result was I had the greatest aptitude in the following professions:

1. Poet

2. Fish and Game Warden

3. Radio/TV Announcer

Seriously y'all...could that not be more perfect?