Posted on by ChatterLei

Love My Hummer!

I’m procrastinating getting ready for work. I have a new job. It’s not easy for me to learn new things. I did not quit my last job, so that adds a level of bitterness to my needing to learn this new job that I started in October.

My husband threw a surprise party for my birthday this year. I caught up with some old friends and enjoyed visiting with my family and friends who made the sacrifice to attend. I basked in the glow of that wonderful gift from my husband and daughter for at least a month… maybe two.

I cleaned out my sewing/craft room last summer. Got rid of a TON of fabric. I hadn’t quilted in several years. It felt good to clear that out. I contemplated selling my sewing machine. I couldn’t bring myself to go that far. Thank goodness….

One of my new coworkers is a quilter. She displays a different quilt in her office each new season. I was smitten with the details of each of her quilts. I was bitten! The quilting bug got me! I went to a local quilt shop and bought an easy pattern and bright fabric. I whipped that quilt top together in no time. I was careful but not particular about trimming threads. It just felt good to measure and cut again. The hum of my sewing machine is very calming to my anxious nervous system. Ahhhhh….

I am currently working on a BOM (block of the month) pattern. It is so exciting to receive fabric and a pattern for each new quilt block of the month. By my birthday next year, I will have a beautiful new quilt on our bed and the joy of knowing each stitch was sewn in calmness and without pressure, but with care. I am more particular about trumming the threads and pressing the seams of each carefully built block. It has been greatly therapeutic.

I better get ready for work. So, I can come home and sew tonight…. If I feel like it.

Posted on by ChatterLei · 2 Comments

My View From Here

Living in the city, no matter the size, is waking in the morning to the smell and feel of fresh night air. A yawn and a stretch later, that intoxicating aroma is smothered by the sickening odor of exhaust and fumes of an awaking city full of automobiles rushing to a destination of “another day, another dollar” hoping to make ends meet in an increasingly greedy world.

Closing the window as if closing my mind to this life in the city where each house surrounding ours feels like claustrophobia crowding out the freedom I felt on the four acres that was once our home in the country. Will my longing for a return to that life ever cease?

Children’s eyes are different. They do not view life the same as adult’s eyes do. Young people see each day or each event as an opportunity for adventure. 

Recently, my grandson and his friend shared an ephemeral moment in the rain, one of those moments that was as forever memorable as it was fleeting.

Two eight-year-old boys walking in the rain, pouring from giant buckets in the clouds. They could barely see their water soaked shoes as they splashed through growing puddles on their journey toward a moment of discovery two blocks away… pipes and drains, drain fields, and rising water. How did the water get in the pipes? Why was the water rushing out of them like a firehose? How much water could the drain field hold?

Shivering, wet, and cold, yet undeterred, they returned home full of excitement and questions about their discovery, each of them barely noticing the towels their mothers wrapped around their soaking wet bodies, heads shaking the water out of their hair like puppies shaking their furry bodies, twisting and turning and wagging their tails hoping someone will pay attention to them and pet them lovingly. 

This was a moment frozen in my mind as I longed to be eight again to feel the freedom and excitement of new discoveries… even in rain-soaked clothing. Not having a care in the world other than having fun with my friend in a field in the rain. Even in the city…. Children’s eyes are different. 

I wish that at almost 60, I could relax and enjoy the freedom of discovery on a rainy afternoon like a child, and not worry about my shoes being wet, or my hair looking flat, or water dripping onto the carpet upon my return. Adults view life differently.

I’m not saying one decade of life is better or worse than another. It’s just different.  Ahhhhh….

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Brrrr…

The wind blows hard here at times. We are not “The Windy City” but we could be a close second.

Today, the temperature outside is 55 degrees with high winds, which makes it feel like sweatshirt weather inside. Stew sounds good for dinner on a day like today. But, I guess chicken spinach tomato pasta will suffice.

I am sitting in our bedroom listening to the rustling of the leaves in our neighbors yard. The birds are chirping and, of course, the magpies are screeching.

I hear the clanging of the pans in the kitchen as my husband washes, dries, and puts away the dishes. He hardly ever sits still. He puts me to shame. Neither of us is lazy, but I do like to blog, write, paint, or anything to avoid doing the unfun stuff like cleaning or organizing. I don’t mind it, but I would rather be doing the fun stuff. So, here I am… blogging and daydreaming about traveling…..

I think that is part of what is so appealing to me about wandering around the country with no home or lawn or the myriad of other responsibilities that go along with having a home. I want to be free to travel and not feel tied down to anything.

My husband is the responsible one who thinks it is important to have the house as an investment for me after he dies. Well, what if I die first? Or what if we look back a few years from now with regret that we didn’t go experience life when we had the chance, when we were healthier.

In every way, I am more of a risk taker, investments, etc. He is very steady and likes to play it safe.

My paternal grandfather was a wanderer, his entire life. My dad moved a lot as a child. He did not like it. There is something to be said for being settled and having roots, but when the kids are grown and have families of their own, as our children do…. I think there is room to feed this wanderlust. I know there are beautiful places I have not seen yet!

So, enough daydreaming. Time to work on creating and organizing my new painting/sewing/craftroom.

Maybe I could cuddle up under a blanket and take a nap first. This wind is giving me a headache.

What a dilemma!  Sigh….

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My Mom’s Friend is My Friend’s Mom

Tuesday, I took my mom to the doctor to discuss the pain in her knees. His office retook X-rays of her knees and said there was nothing broken. He gave her a cortisol injection in both knees, said she probably has a “bone bruise” from her last couple of falls, and sent her on her way.

She was thrilled there were no limitations placed on her (except for the excruciating pain she has been feeling) so she was free to attend the outdoor concert with her friends by the river. These friends and my mom have all lost their husbands. So, they really enjoy their “girls night out.”

The friend who picked my mom up drives a minivan so all of their friends can fit. (There are five women in total who ride to the river together.) She put my mom’s walker behind the back seat in the van. As she closed the hatch, she looked my way, then walked over next to me and asked if there are any restrictions or instructions from the doctor that she should be aware of.

Mind you, my mom’s friend just recently decided to get up off her “deathbed” and start “living life again.” She hardly eats anything. She is so small and frail, looks like skin and bones. She is younger then my mom by 3 years, but looks older than her (from all of the weight loss). I almost couldn’t contain my reaction when she asked me about my mom’s restrictions and then said she will take care of her the best she can. It was so sweet of her, but…really? Oh my! I thought later that I should have asked if her she was given any instructions or restrictions from her doctors and should I go along to help take care of all of them?

My mom’s friend is my friend’s mom.

My friend and I met in the 2nd grade. (We are almost retirement age and our moms are in their early 80’s. Well, I guess maybe her mom is only 79 or so.) Anyway, we went to school together, even double-dated in high school. We both married navy guys who each go by the same name. They have different legal names, but go by the same name. We were each other’s bridesmaids in our weddings. We kept in touch when she moved out of state to the upper Northwest and when I moved out of state to the upper Midwest. We sent cards and letters over the years to keep updated about our kids and our lives. We were the best of friends. But, distance and time can change things.

Mostly, misunderstandings can change things.

We are both back in the same town where we grew up. Unfortunately, we had a couple of falling outs over the years and she even stopped talking with me for several years. We are back on speaking terms and we try to get together with our husbands for dinner every now and then, but the closeness will never be the same.

My friend and I have both lost our dads. She lost her dad to covid in 2020. I lost my dad to watershed strokes in 2024. I am hopeful, that soon, my friend’s mom, my friend, my mom, and I can get together for lunch or something. That would be such a cool moment, all of these years later.

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Creatively Speaking

List three books that have had an impact on you. Why?

* The Scriptures, because they are how God speaks to me.

* The Giving Tree – because that tree gave everything it had because of the love it felt for one person. It reminds me of Christ. He gave all… because of the love He feels for each and every person who has ever lived or will live.

* My camera training manual, because it opened the first door to my love of photography becoming a beautiful creative outlet for me.

Speaking of creativity, this thought occurred to me today….

Humans were made to create. After all, we are made in God’s image. God created the world. And, He created us, humans… In His image. I never thought of it quite like this before. I have said before that we are made to create, but I just realized WHY. Because we are patterned after God, in His image, with the potential to become like Him… To create our own worlds and the inhabitants of those worlds.

That paragraph gives me goose bumps. 

Think about all of the things we humans like to create… other little humans, for example. We like to create stories or memoirs with our words on paper. We like to act, or sing, or photograph the perfect moment – freezing it in time. People create homes, buildings, cars, and trucks. We like to create gourmet food dishes and amazing art pieces. 

Children love to create! They start at a very young age. Think of the amount of money spent each year on Legos and activity sets, as well as blocks and puzzles. What about sports? You know, learning to create the perfect pitch or football move or to create the perfect layup in their own way with their developing creative talents.

I could write on and on about what we humans like to create. And, we do it with all of our senses. It is incredible when you think about it! Our brains were created to think of ways to create!! 

Do you know anyone (in their right mind) who doesn’t express creativity in one way or another? Every person that I know creates something. Every. Single. Person. 

Why is creativity so important? I think I answered that already. We are learning to become like God, our Supreme Creator.

Or like Lucifer, the Supreme manipulator. It is our choice. Creativity can be used for good or evil, just as anything else. It is all about agency and choosing how we want want to use our creative powers. Yes, agency. But, that is a topic for another day. 

Now, let’s go create something beautiful and amazing!  

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A Walk in the Park

Not every choice or experience in this life is as simple or easy as a walk in the park.

I wish it was, but it just isn’t.

However, with each difficult situation comes learning, deeper understanding, and meaning. Growth.

It’s true.

This life was never meant to be a walk in the park. Rather, it is a place of learning and growth, building human family connection, and developing patience… with self and others.

Overcoming loneliness, loving those who are most difficult to love, forgiving the unrepentant and undeserving are never easy. But, is it possible that with God, nothing is impossible?

These are some of the thoughts I was contemplating earlier on my walk in the park.

Posted on by ChatterLei

Memorial Weekend

Even as a child, I loved the peace and quiet of a cemetery. Today, as my mom, siblings, and I stood near Dad’s headstone, we shared a few memories and a few laughs. Dad would have been laughing right along with us…. He probably was. 😉

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Snapshots of Life

The sun was dropping, the air was cooling, and the shadows were lengthening as I briskly walked around the almost two-mile loop at our community park. Several snapshots of life jumped out at me as I progressed along the path.

There were groups of small children talking, laughing, and squealing as they ran from one gym equipment piece to another. Parents were loitering around the playground equipment, visiting with other parents or keeping their eyes on their cell phones and their ears glued to the sound of the ones they were responsible for.

Opposite of them were a group of older gradeschoolers running back and forth as directed by their soccer coaches. They were listening intently and working hard. Parents were seated nearby in camp chairs they had undoubtedly carried with them from their cars in the parking lot. I wondered how many of the parents were friends outside of this practice circle. How many of the girls were friends at school or in the neighborhood? 

There was a young couple sitting on a bench. He had his arm around her. She was looking up at him, talking flirtatiously and giggling as she pulled her feet up and tucked them in under her small frame. Ahhh… young love. How did they meet? How long had they been dating? Will they end up together?

Since I was walking the opposite direction of most people I saw friends walking and talking, a middle-aged couple walking their dog, a multi generational family, and a couple in their 30’s holding hands as they walked and talked deliberately, lost to the world around them.

There was a young couple with a cute toddler girl who was having a bit of a meltdown. They were lovingly trying to comfort and console her, but she was not having it. As I walked past them and her cries faded further in the distance, I remembered that stage of parenthood and felt connected to them for a moment. Then, the moment passed, and I was grateful my children were grown.

It felt as if I was walking into the setting sun, past nastalgic snapshots of my own life’s memories, grateful for every stage along the way and even grateful for where I am today, with most of those stages of life behind me.

Sigh….

Looking forward with gratitude…that I can look behind with fondness.

Posted on by ChatterLei

Our Night at the Movies

“Mom, do you want to go to see a movie with us at the theater?”

She said, “Yes, I would like that. it has been a long time since I have seen a movie at the theater.”

As a child, Mom got to see movies for free anytime she wanted because her dad, my grandpa, ran the movies at the theater in the small town where she grew up. She and her sisters spent a lot of time watching those old reel movies that their dad played.

She asked what movie we were going to see. I told her it is a movie called “Last Breath,” a true story about the rescue of a seasoned deep sea diver.

Mom does not have as much pep in her step as she used to, so we walked slowly from the parking lot to the theater building. We arrived early so we could pay for our tickets and purchase popcorn and drinks and find good seats. There were not many people in the lobby. We were able to walk right up to the counter and make our purchase. Apparently, it has been awhile since we have been to a movie because upon purchasing a ticket to the see our specific movie, the guy behind the counter pointed to the screen in front of me and asked us to choose our seats for the duration of the movie. That was a first! There were only 4 or five that were taken already, so we picked the perfect seats directly behind the wall which was located behind the handicapped area.

Mom was happily impressed that the tin bucket of popcorn even had a handle, which made it easier to carry with her drink as we walked to the napkin counter to pick up napkins and straws for our drinks. I always get fruit punch to drink with my buttery popcorn at the theater. It is the best combo!

We made our way to the theater at the end of the long hallway passing theater after theater rooms. The ads were already playing as we made our way to our chosen seats. The first challenge was to open the seat while holding a drink in one hand and popcorn, napkins, and the straw in the other hand. I backed up to my seat and slowly and gently slid it open as I sat down. My mom tried the same thing. Hers was more of a PLOP right down than a gentle sliding of the seat. She exclaimed she thought she was going straight down to the ground. We had a good laugh as we settled in, placing the drinks in the holders, removing our jackets, and placing the tins of popcorn on the napkins our laps. I’m sure Joe was picturing a scene from the Three Stooges, but he was the smart, cool one. Haha.

The ads on the screen were not the local ads we were accustomed to seeing. These were national ads that we see on TV. I guess they had to keep the movie theaters afloat somehow. National ads pay more, I’m sure.

When the movie finally started, we were sucked right in. Woody Harrelson played his part well. They all did. The movie was suspenseful and every time something unexpected popped up, my poor mom nearly jumped out of her seat! We had a few good laughs, enjoyed the popcorn, and a great movie together.

I am so grateful for a mom who is willing to experience new activities or ones she has not done in a long time, even in her eighties!

Posted on by ChatterLei · 3 Comments

MS Awareness Month – A Personal Experience with Infusion Therapy

Oh! The irony….

The first stick today at the infusion center was in a vein just below my wrist staight down from my right thumb. It stung like crazy. The nurse, a very happy, kind young woman in her 20’s had to move the IV to the left side of my left arm. I was well hydrated, but for some reason, I was extra sensitive to the pokes today.

After the premeds of solumedrol (a steroid for inflammation reduction) and Benadryl (for prevention of possible allergic reactions to the medication) were given and when the 30-minute wait time was over, it was time to start infusing the half dose of a new medication my neurologist prescribed because of the increased MS symptoms I was experiencing and the three new lesions seen on my recent MRI. The stress of the past year has definitely taken a toll on my body.

Ocrevus is a medication which is initially infused twice, 14 days apart, and then as an infusion every six months to reduce the symptoms and number of future MS relapses. There is not a cure for MS, but the medication can be helpful in slowing the progression of the disease.

My arrival time was 9AM this morning. Riding in the elevator in silence with my husband to the second floor was not intentional. The closer we got to the infusion center the more nervous I felt. The elevator doors opened and we walked straight ahead and took the jog to the right. Behind the glass door that we walked through into the infusion center, sat a very bubbly blonde girl behind the desk She was eager to help us feel welcome. I recognized her voice as the one who scheduled the appointment with me and called me “Sweetie” before hanging up the phone last week. Someone younger than yourself should NEVER call you “Sweetie.” It feels disingenuous and condescending, in my opinion. She, however, was very friendly and did help us feel very welcome.

The room that was going to be mine for the next 7.5 hours was inviting and even had a homey feel to it. I was directed to sit in the big dark brown leather recliner. My husband sat in a very nice cloth wing-backed chair on the other side of the end table placed between the two chairs. On the wall in front of us was a large TV hanging above a side board with drawers where the nurses accessed the necessary supplies. It was the same width as the TV. The TV was displaying a beautiful cozy sitting room with a fireplace and all kinds of St. Patrick’s Day decore dispersed about the room which gave a bit of a wimsical feel to the coziness.

The normal medical history questions were asked and answered. When the nurse asked me, “How do you sleep at night?” I could not help my response, “With my eyes closed.” She laughed like she knowingly had that coming. All of the nurses were kind, helpful and reassuringly stated they have very few people who have reactions to the medication.

Well, I had a bit of reaction, so the medication was stopped for 30 minutes and restarted at a lower dose. I started to feel shaky so the nurse brought a string cheese and an apple juice for me. By then, it was late enough that she let me choose a lunch to be delivered by Uber, which was paid by the infusion center. That was a nice perk of choosing them, (if you can call it “choosing” when they were the only one that was in-network with our insurance).

The remainder of the infusion ran smoothly. The nurses checked my vitals every 30 minutes. My blood pressure, oxygen, and pulse were good the entire time. At 4:30PM we walked out toward the reception desk. I stopped in the hallway where I let the nurse know that I was experiencing some double vision in my left eye. She said if it got worse or if I started to have new symptoms that I should go to the ER. One of the other nurses will give me a call tomorrow to check on how I am doing. When that call comes, I hope to answer while at work, since I am feeling better tonight. It is nearly 11:30PM, and I am wide awake. It comes as no surprise because of all the napping I did today, thanks to the Benedryl.

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Photographer

Daily writing prompt
Describe the most ambitious DIY project you’ve ever taken on.
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Not a word I ever thought people would use when describing me.

It was about 19 years ago when I taught a class of women at church one evening about how to take better pictures with their own cameras. Of course, in doing so, I showed some of my pictures for examples when describing how to work with lighting, angles, zoom, etc. That evening, one of the ladies asked if I would take her daughter’s engagement pictures. I did! It was the most scary thrilling thing I had ever done! Until I shot their wedding! I was hooked. That was the beginning of my love of wedding photography.

When I am behind a camera, I am in my element. I wanted my clients to not only enjoy seeing the moments captured in an image, but to remember the expereince they had and the feelings that undoubtedly go along with remembering special moments.

I remember, when the lady from church paid me for the photography, she and her husband both asked when I was going to start charging for my photo shoots. I looked at them and asked aloud, “Could I? Do you think I am good enough?” They both smiled and said yes.

Most people who are photographers probably dreamed about it in childhood. You know, it was what they wanted to be “when the grow up.” I never had that thought. I just knew I loved taking pictures and especially capturing special moments for people. It was something I sort of fell into as an adult. It was what I grew up with. I can’t even imagine a family gathering without cameras all around.

Growing up, it was what families did. They gathered. And they took pictures. At least, my mom’s family. She had one brother and five sisters and whenever we would gather at Grandma and Grandpa’s house all of us cousins would run off to play together, then we would be called together for dinner and then family group pictures afterward. Seven people with seven cameras meant holding still in family groups for seven flashes. We have lots of family group pictures, but not so many candid pictures of the various activities. Remember the candids!

Photography is a lot of fun. Running a photography business is a lot of work. But worth it. It took hours of research (where was ChatGPT when I needed it?!) to figure out what to charge, advertising, release forms, contracts, best cameras and lenses, etc. Yes, that was the biggest DYI project I ever took on. And, the most memorable. And, the most stressful. Now I prefer to shoot stationary scenes. Not quite as stressful as shooting a young perfectionist bride, taking orders from her mother-in-law, and getting an entire wedding party together for a photo of the whole group. It’s like hearding cats. Nope. Not any more. Beaches and oceans, mountains and skies, flowers, and trees. Those are more my speed now… finding beauty in the small things.

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Enjoying Retirement

Daily writing prompt
What were your parents doing at your age?
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When my dad was my age, he was retired, as was my mom. My parents traveled to see us where we lived in the upper Midwest at the time. Those were the best years for my mom. She loved to travel, which must be where I get my love of traveling and adventure!

Numerous events happened the year my mom was my age. It was 2001. It was the one-year anniversary of my paternal grandfather’s passing. My husband was diagnosed with MS. 9/11 happened. My husband took early medical retirement in October. I quit my job in early November. We sold our house and moved back to the western side of the Rockies where my parents still lived. That was the last long trip my parents took, when they drove out to help us move back home.

My parents seemed so young and active when they were my age. I feel so aged with the stress of working full-time and my health issues. In fact, I am waiting for the results of an MRI I had done just yesterday. It seems I may be having an MS exacerbation. (Yes, my husband and I both have MS, diagnosed 10 years apart.) I have new and worsening symptoms of numbness in my feet and hands, muscle cramping and tightness, heaviness in my legs with walking, and exhaustion in the afternoons. I don’t know for sure. It may not be MS, it could just be stress. I will know for sure in a couple of days.

Anyway, I am grateful for the time and money my parents spent in traveling out to see us when we lived in Minnesota. We have many fun memories of time spent with them there. We took many walks around the parks along the Mississippi River and even took a boat ride in my husband’s boat on the Mississippi River a time or two. We have fun memories fishing, spending time at the cabin, shopping thrift stores and pottery shops, and sharing our day-to-day activities when they came and stayed with us.

I remember the first time they came out to visit us. They were not used to the humid summers in the upper Midwest. My mom mentioned more than once how strange it was to take a shower in the mornings and put on fresh clothes from the closet that felt like they were almost still “wet.” They were used to the dry desert heat back home. That was when we figured out we needed a dehumidifier. Dehumidifiers were not a necessity in the west, but they sure keep a house dry during the dog days of summer in those quaint little river towns along the Mississippi River.

Thank you for letting me share a walk down memory lane prompted by this question.