Monday, April 12, 2010

The Phantom Of Blogopera

I'm waiting for the Alleve to kick in-and this is a good thing to do while that happens.  Emotionally I am in the storm right now-fully engaged in my life and digging through the rubble of what I've drug in when I lived in the land of dreams and wishes.  I'm picking out those things I want to keep and work on, and letting go of what, however nice it would be, I won't have time to do.  I have a lot of rubble.

I'm making progress beyond where I was when I fell off Casper.  That loss of momentum really hurt more than the aches and pains did-and a groin injury IS painful.  But that's all it was, loss of momentum, not the end of all things.  One of things I did was ask my friend if she would take Casper back, and when she said yes I told her to let me think about how that would feel.

Honestly, and without drama, it felt like I might as well die.  I think I've written here that when I was in Mexico going under, my only regret was not having a horse.  And having a horse has been nothing like I thought it would be, but it has been so much more than I ever dreamed.  Casper can rip my confidence to shreds and send it over the moon.  Unlike my dogs, he is not devoted to me-he loves everybody.  But he does trust and respect me.  He'd be happy without me, but I wouldn't be happy without him.  Casper stays.

The snakes are gone-I put the last of them down.  100 percent fatal virus was, well, 100 percent.  Death never seems to cut me slack.  This is my second complete wipe out and I'm done with it.  Winters are too worrisome and hard to deal with with reptiles, and virus are hideous too.

I'm hauling a load of decorating/craft/horse rubble to Cookson Hill's Christian Ministries tomorrow-the kids will enjoy the stuff and I'll enjoy visiting with Grandma Wilkerson and Michelle (who breeds my border collies).  Solo man is riding shotgun-he's doing well in his classes and as firstborn child of Michelle's up and coming stud dog-she'd like to take a look at him.

The mustang is gone.  I traded it for a truck.  Daddy was driving the dog car as his car (he drives maybe once a week) but I know he didn't like it.  He had trouble getting in and out of the Mustang-so I just decided we needed and truck and that's what we did.  The day we went truck trading was a good day for us both-I don't miss the car and I have a really really nice memory with my father.

I'm finishing up post cards and will mail them-and maybe one day I'll even scan and post the ones I've received.  I feel bad about not being current with those things-one day I hope to be current again on life-but right now my focus seems to be somewhere else.

The good news is,  I am at least focused somewhere.  For so long I've been focused on everything at once and nothing at all.  It's not a good way to be, it's neither comfortable nor happy.  I'm still not comfortable-and that's ok-life isn't always comfortable, but I am confident enough to explore options for comfort rather than hide away from it all.

Physically, I'm getting better every day.  I still have some pain, but now am able to work my body so that I'm tired at night and sleep easily, and that is a great mental relief.  I'm looking forward to Boston in a couple of weeks- a weekend of celebrations, frienship and laughter.  Most likely there will be a few tears also-we lost yet another friend last week.

I'm checking out of the hotel at noon Saturday-and just need to know where to show up and I will belong to you guys till Sunday evening.  My mind is still a bit warped about going so far for such a short time-the novelty of that is almost as exciting as the company!

Saturday, April 3, 2010


Michele wrote an interesting post about Forgotten Dreams.

Honestly, there isn't that much I haven't done in some shape or fashion.  I haven't swam with a Great White Shark, but I saw one-yes it was in a tank, but in many ways that was better.  At any rate, it was more comfortable.

I got some letters after my name, which I never use.  I've owned homes and cars-the usual things people think about growing up.  I even have my wonderful horse now.  I've shared space with dogs and cats and birds and other amazing aimals.  I've taken a few good pictures here and there and had my own office with a big wooden desk.  I've almost made it to 50-which is something I never even intended to do.

It's a very strange head space to be in, living in a age you never imagined you'd reach or planned for.  I've never had a terribly strong grip to this world or life.  I wake up sometimes and think "oh, still here I see."  I've been knocked out a few times and when I came to my first thoughts were always trying to figure out exactly "where" I landed, but I don't recall ever being disturbed by the notion that I might be dead.

When I was in Mexico having my lap band surgery, I realized a few seconds before they put me under that I was getting ready to be unconscious, alone in a foreign country, in a not so nice area of said country, and that no one in the family knew where I was.  No one knew what the name of the sugery practice was or how to contact me, so if I didn't wake up or they threw me in the swamp, no one would even know where to look.  "wow" I thought when that realization hit, and thanks in part to drugs, then next thought was "oh well, too late to worry about it now."

What I DID worry about was thinking hard about what I'd regret not doing if I didn't wake up and still had memories of this life.  I really was sorry I'd never owned a horse.  Really, I didn't think about telling so and so I loved them or any of that stuff you are supposed to think about.

A few years later, back in Oklahoma, going under for another surgery, my thought was "I don't care where I wake up as long as it feels better than I do now...."

A year or so after that, TRYING to wake up after falling off the horse, I thought "well shit, I had to have that horse didn't I?"

I've always considered myself to be a deep thinking kind of person-but when it comes to life and death stuff, I'm pretty damn simple.