Okay. I don’t feel well this morning. I can’t tell whether it’s a cold or just pesky sinus problems. I was going to simply say that I was sick and that would be the post, but a couple of things happened this morning that I want to share.

Don had a gig last night and this morning he told me that he sang the song he wrote about my parents years ago. He sang some of the lyrics to me and I started crying. He wrote it after my mom was about to have hip replacement surgery and we learned that the night before the surgery, my dad had stayed awake all night long in order to hold her because she was so scared. His lyrics are so beautiful. He told me he sobbed when he was writing it. We miss my parents.

Then, I was on Facebook and I saw a post from my cousin, Gordy (named after my dad.)

Just a simple post: “I was a helicopter pilot.”

Gordy is older than me and he suffers from the same thing his mother did – Parkinson’s Disease. He lives in Florida but he has a cottage on an island in northern Michigan. He spends every summer there, except for this one. His Parkinson’s has progressed to a point where his doctor was worried about him being able to safely get around in that rather remote location.  That simple declaration was so moving. I found myself crying again.

Don’t we all know what that feels like? To be older after a lifetime of working and perhaps retired and/or unable to do what used to come so easily? A loss of identity. A loss of something in which you excelled. Gordy was a helicopter pilot in Vietnam, and a rescue pilot after he came home. I remember him giving me some wings in the form of a small pin. He was handsome and dashing and we worried about him over there in Vietnam. Thankfully, he came home safely. But now he has to face a body that betrays him, that he can’t control, all the while remembering what he used to be able to do.

The comments were lovely, everyone assuring him he was a great helicopter pilot, that he was still a pilot.

When I was young, I used to look at older people with an assumption about them based on nothing except that they were old. It wasn’t unkind or anything like that, rather, a sort of ‘Aren’t they sweet?’ kind of thing. I had no idea what their lives had been like before that moment in time; what their profession had been, who they really were. And because I was young, I was never really curious about that.

Now that I’m older, I have the same feeling that Gordy has. When I walk into a room full of young actors, directors, staff members and I’m the oldest person in the room, I know they are seeing gray hair and wrinkles, just like I saw gray hair and wrinkles and nothing beyond that. In my current situation, I am able to coach the actors and get to know them and that helps. I become defined. But everyone has an interior voice that cries out “You should have seen me when I did this or that!”

Anyway, I am rambling a bit here. I’ll just leave it at that. It’s sort of a weepy morning and that’s okay.

By the way, I received an Islamaphobic comment this morning, obviously in reference to my happiness about the election results. I deleted it, of course, and will block that person. It’s someone who has never commented before, so it might well be a troll. Still, I’m always shocked by that level of ignorance. Begone!

Stay safe.

Happy Saturday.

Pardon me while I wipe my eyes. I have been crying with joy over yesterday’s election results. I feel hope for the first time in a long time.

We voted in our local election and the results were equally gratifying. After that, we went to a grocery store where I purchased non-perishables for our local food bank and dropped them off at the library collection point.

And then – later in the day – a wee little doll arrived. But I’ll share her with you on Friday.

In the meantime, I grabbed the camera the other day when I noticed bluebirds in the bird bath. They were stopping for a drink on their way south.

I love bluebirds. We don’t really see them around here except for early spring, when they are migrating north, and now, in the fall, when they are migrating south. They’re so beautiful.

Thanks for all your feedback on ads. My ad provider has changed things so I won’t get so many pharmaceutical ads. And the reason I often get 3 of the same kind of ad when I’m on the blog is the ad provider can tell I am the owner/writer of the blog because of the frequency of my visits, so they hold off on showing a variety of ads because I’m not a reader of the blog. That makes sense.

We have had a lot of wind lately and now we’re getting a heavy wind warning from late this afternoon until tomorrow morning. Enough already. I’m praying for the safety of everyone, for trees not to fall, for the power to stay on. Please send positive thoughts.

Stay safe.

Happy Wednesday.

This little corner makes me smile. I think it’s so important to have a little corner, whether it’s a comfy chair, a desk, or a spot in the basement, where you can create. During the years in which I crocheted and knitted, I used to have a basket filled with yarn next to my chair here in the den. That was my space. When I quilted, I had the sewing machine table tucked under the skylight in the upstairs hall. I still use the kitchen table for projects, as well as for jigsaw puzzles.

And, of course, we all need a place where we can read a good book.

For many years – many – I had absolutely no extra space for that kind of thing. I was living in rentals and micro-sized studio apartments. I always came up with some sort of solution. Back in San Diego in our rental house, my friend hinged a door to a wall. It was in a horizontal position. I could lift it and lock it in place and that’s where my sewing machine and quilting took place. When we moved here, I eventually made a studio out of the hallway upstairs. (It was even in a magazine.) When we finally realized that our second bedroom, with a queen-sized bed, was never used and we were wasting valuable space, everything changed. We sold the bed and I asked Don to help me carve out two spaces in that room – one for him, one for me.

It works for us. We’re seldom up there at the same time and Don most often plays and composes down here in the living room. But he waits until I finish writing the blog, ’cause he’s a good guy.

Do you have a space in which to create? I’d love to know about it.

Also, another question: I’m having some trouble with the content of my ads right now and I’m trying to sort it out. Can you tell me what ads you see on the blog? (Everyone who comes to the blog sees something different depending on their browsing history.) I’m currently seeing ads from pharmaceutical companies for breast cancer treatment. Personally, I have a real problem with the amount of ads I see online and on the television from pharmaceutical companies. I don’t like ads for drugs/medical treatments on the blog.

Thank you in advance.

Stay safe.

Happy Monday.