Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Signs and sentinels. Vet bills X2 (forget my own). Sales/shares very badly needed.

Photo copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved.

She gave me one halfway-decent shot today, out of a bunch that my old camera's too damn slow to catch. She was here with her man; the harrier was hiding in the red willows outside the kitchen door when we got home; and on our way home, the bald eagle was seated atop the one remaining warrior among the four old sentinels along the highway. Yesterday, too, the harrier landed on the rail of the steps leading to the deck, right outside the living room window, and she looked in at us before flying on up.

Signs. Good ones, we hope.

She-Wolf had her follow-up today, and while there was no obvious improvement in the tumors, it's only been 11 days, and with this kind of cancer, there's often no improvement at all. Arresting it is good. I was hoping simply for no progression in the tumors, and there seems to be none, and the vet was so impressed with how she looks and acts that we're taking this win. We're altering her meds slightly, lowering the pred and titrating her off it, to see if we can keep her numbers down and the rest of her still in good shape. As he said, we can always add it back. A little over $200 on that, less today than the last time despite the ultrasound and the prescription kibble, because he was kind enough not to charge us for the office visit.

Tomorrow will be more, unfortunately. Our horse vet will be here at 10; Shade has been developing a bit of a cresty neck, and that has suddenly accelerated. I know that sounds like, well, not much, but horse people will know what I'm talking about. She is very likely already insulin resistant, and given that she has Cree's genes, it's a lot safer (and a hell of a lot less expensive) to arrest anything else that might be going on now, rather than waiting until she develops full-blown Cushing's and potentially something worse. The mechanic is also coming over, because yesterday my car had no turn signals, and today it had signals but three windows that wouldn't budge, and we can't have everything go out while we're on the road (yes, it's an old jalopy, but it does the job for vet visits and supply runs and so forth), and I have no idea what that will set us back, either.

[And my own follow-up remains on-schedule as before. No points trying to move it up if the only possibility is one day sooner, and we've already scheduled around the existing date anyway. Next Thursday.]

So while I'm less . . . swamped by things I'd rather not recall tonight, there's still the worry over various fuzzy family members' health (and our own), and there's the neverending worry over money. We have so much to deal with this year (and I'm not even talking about the house; look at what the last two months have been), and I have no idea how we're going to do this, but all I can do is put one foot in front of the other, so here we are. And the only way, as far as I can tell, that we're going to do any of it is through sales, so we still need all the shares and all the sales we can get. There'll be no new work on the house for some time yet, obviously. This weekend (and beyond), I'll be posting several of Wings's new works, so check his site routinely for a while. Here are the links; please continue to share them consistently (and the rest is cut-and-paste, mostly): 
  • Tonight's post elsewhere (not much of a post, but the one gift each day gives me);
  • A way to buy me coffee (which actually goes to She-Wolf's & my medical bills);
  • Wings's direct PayPal link;
  • Wings's site, for sales;
  • Wayfair gift cards, to replenish all the furnishings that the RV has destroyed in one way or another.
  • Partial registry #1, from Bed, Bath and Beyond. There are new kitchen-y things on it now, stuff that I didn't realize we'd need to replace (either because the RV ruined it or because we gave it away when we had to downsize).
  • Partial registry #2, from Wayfair. There are some things left on both registries that I thought by now I might be able just to buy outright, but medical bills (mine and She-Wolf's both) have to come first.
I am no more functional than I was a few days ago — less, in fact, although we can't pin down why. I mean, we know it's all part of whatever happened to me in November; it's just that no one can figure out what that is, much less how to fix it. It makes me feel old and decrepit, especially given that I can't take 20 steps without getting short of breath, and I still can't lift or carry anything, which means I'm utterly useless around here. I'm using a cane routinely now when we run errands, and sometimes I just have to stop and sit, because I just can't stand upright another minute. It's profoundly maddening. Still, it's a gift to wake up each morning, even when the wind chills are teens or below; on mornings like this, you get glitter.  Thanks, everybody, from both of us, for everything. 



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

The World Arises at the Water's Edge

Photo copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved.

Now posted at The NDN Silver Blog, it's one of Wings's newest works, a melding of the power of world and water and sacred space. It's a work to honor the Earth's own birth, because the world arises at the water's edge, and even when the edge recedes, it still delivers new worlds filled with beauty and spirit. 

The post is here. Wings's main page is here. Inquiries via the site's Contact form. And, as always, sales are very much needed (especially now), so shares of the site links are much appreciated.



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Memories, and I'd rather be up there with the red-tail. Shares and sales still needed.

Photo copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved.

Days like this, I wish I were up there with her.

My father would've been 94 today. This day (like all the other such markers) always flings me back to a childhood nobody wants to claim, and I spend the day trying to crawl back out of that lonely child's skin. But I had a secondary throwback this morning, one whose force took me by surprise, and whose significance had never really hit me until now. 

Among the items we received from the registry were dishes to replace those consigned to the RV's destruction (thanks, Sis). I had unpacked the plates, but between all the health problems and the presence of a few oddball bowls and our to-go mugs for coffee, I hadn't really needed the other items, particularly, and I left the heavy box in the pantry. I can't lift more than 5 pounds yet, so that means dragging stuff around only when necessary. I did that this morning, and when I opened the boxes, the nested layers that protected each item threw me back, full force, to age six. It was January; we had just moved, and were living in this miserable little shack, bedrooms closed to cold and vermin, our entire lives taking place between the walls of front room, kitchen, and bathroom. We had nothing, including dishes. There was a department store of sorts in this dinky town, a regional precursor to the K-Marts and Meijer's and whatever. They sold those awful early-generation melamine sets, the kind that felt like melted plastic, sold in these boxes the size and shape of a small suitcase, with all the nesting bits of cardboard attached inside to hold the plates and cups and bowls. And eventually, my parents saved up enough to get one those sets. It was ugly as sin, some awful burnt-orangey-brown and olive green, but it was there, and it was cheap, and that was what mattered.

And the box became my toy. I think the only thing I had by way of toys at the time might have been my stuffed koala and my Raggedy Ann and Andy. Not much for a six-year-old with a wild imagination who read everything she could get her hands on and knew there was a big wide world of stuff out there (stuff her classmates had, of course). So I took the box, and propped the lid open, and turned the nesting bits of cardboard into . . . rooms. And that became my dollhouse. My only other toy. I took it with me when we moved again, this time to a slightly less tiny and only slightly less vermin-infested house. And the flood of memories — of cold January nights and sleeping on the floor and an ancient space heater with the coils dangerously exposed and an injury to my leg with the flaming pain of the bandage ripped off the back of my thigh — all these things swamped me like a tidal wave, the colors, the sounds, the smells of poverty, the feel of the cardboard, all of it. And my body isn't as strong now as it was just three months ago, and a wave like that can break me now, and I can't let it.

So now that I've written the memories of poverty (at least those particular ones) out of my system, the rest is cut and paste, because I can't think about any of it anymore right now, not my past or my family or any of it. We have to take She-Wolf to the vet tomorrow, and I have a bunch of other obligations to take care of tomorrow, and I have to keep going until we're all safe across the board. So here's the rest, and then I'm probably out for the night:


So we still need all the shares and all the sales we can drum up right now, and will for quite a while. There'll be no new work on the house for some time yet, obviously. BTW, Wings has new pieces in the works, items I will likely be posting all this week, so keep checking back. Here are the links; please continue to share them consistently: 
  • Tonight's post elsewhere (speaking of humble homes);
  • A way to buy me coffee (which actually goes to She-Wolf's & my medical bills);
  • Wings's direct PayPal link;
  • Wings's site, for sales;
  • Wayfair gift cards, to replenish all the furnishings that the RV has destroyed in one way or another.
  • Partial registry #1, from Bed, Bath and Beyond. There are new kitchen-y things on it now, stuff that I didn't realize we'd need to replace (either because the RV ruined it or because we gave it away when we had to downsize).
  • Partial registry #2, from Wayfair. There are some things left on both registries that I thought by now I might be able just to buy outright, but medical bills (mine and She-Wolf's both) have to come first.
I am no more functional than I was a few days ago — less, in fact, although we can't pin down why. I mean, we know it's all part of whatever happened to me in November; it's just that no one can figure out what that is, much less how to fix it. It makes me feel old and decrepit, especially given that I can't take 20 steps without getting short of breath, and I still can't lift or carry anything, which means I'm utterly useless around here. I'm using a cane routinely now when we run errands, and sometimes I just have to stop and sit, because I just can't stand upright another minute. It's profoundly maddening. Still, it's a gift to wake up each morning, even when the wind chills are teens or below; on mornings like this, you get glitter.  Thanks, everybody, from both of us, for everything. 



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

Red Willow Spirit: The Arteries of the Earth and the Breath of Life

Photo copyright Wings, 2018; all rights reserved.

Now posted at The NDN Silver Blog, it's an edition of Red Willow Spirit for a winter of drought. It's also a meditation on the role of the rivers in the body of our collective mother, on the arteries of the earth and the breath of life.

The post is here. Wings's main page is here. It's all photos today, and as always with Wings's work, they're available for purchase in any of the usual three formats; simply inquire via the site's Contact form. Also as always, sales are very much needed (especially now), so shares of the site links are much appreciated.



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.


Monday, January 15, 2018

Melancholy days and spirits in the skies. A lot of expense coming up fast. Sales and shares badly needed.

Photo copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved.

It's been a melancholy day: Dr. King's birthday; tomorrow a birthday marker of another sort for me; Dolores O'Riordan gone, and being flung back suddenly to 1992 or '3; still no snow; 12 or 20 episodes a day of wondering whether this is it, again, and whether it will really be, you know, it. It's the kind of day that makes you feel very small and alone and insignificant, and I've been all of those things. And then Father Sun shows up in a photo, showing more of himself than usual, and my beloved weeping willow becomes a shawl dancer (top bullet below), and maybe I'll get through the next episode, and the next, and the next . . . and I am not alone, I have the greatest gift possible in Wings.

But. When I said 12 or 20 episodes a day, I was being literal in the extreme. I have to call the doctor tomorrow and see if I can move up my appointment. It's frustrating, not least because Wings is bearing the brunt of the workload, but it's also terrifying each time it happens and you're forced to face the fact, again, that this might be the one that doesn't actually let you out the other side. So far, I've been lucky. But I'm neither cocky nor stupid, and I take nothing for granted.

She-Wolf also goes back in a couple of days for her follow-up, which will essentially be an eval of her condition and to what extent the meds might be working. She is tired a lot, and her numbers are high, but she's also happy, and playful, and ready to romp with her brother whenever he's ready to throw down, so that makes us hopeful. I have no idea how much this round will set us back, though (nor my own follow-up, for that matter. And of course, at some point, we need to get the house finished off, because there are still some things undone whose absence impairs functionality. I have no idea when that will be.

So we still need all the shares and all the sales we can drum up right now, and will for quite a while. There'll be no new work on the house for some time yet, obviously. BTW, Wings has new pieces in the works, items I will likely be posting all this week, so keep checking back. Here are the links; please continue to share them consistently: 
  • Tonight's post elsewhere (barely more than an image, but one we needed);
  • A way to buy me coffee (which actually goes to She-Wolf's & my medical bills);
  • Wings's direct PayPal link;
  • Wings's site, for sales;
  • Wayfair gift cards, to replenish all the furnishings that the RV has destroyed in one way or another.
  • Partial registry #1, from Bed, Bath and Beyond. There are new kitchen-y things on it now, stuff that I didn't realize we'd need to replace (either because the RV ruined it or because we gave it away when we had to downsize).
  • Partial registry #2, from Wayfair. There are some things left on both registries that I thought by now I might be able just to buy outright, but medical bills (mine and She-Wolf's both) have to come first.
I am no more functional than I was a few days ago — less, in fact, although we can't pin down why. I mean, we know it's all part of whatever happened to me in November; it's just that no one can figure out what that is, much less how to fix it. It makes me feel old and decrepit, especially given that I can't take 20 steps without getting short of breath, and I still can't lift or carry anything, which means I'm utterly useless around here. I'm using a cane routinely now when we run errands, and sometimes I just have to stop and sit, because I just can't stand upright another minute. It's profoundly maddening. Still, it's a gift to wake up each morning, even when the wind chills are teens or below; on mornings like this, you get glitter.  Thanks, everybody, from both of us, for everything. 



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

Monday Photo Meditation: To Save the Water

Photo copyright Wings, 2018;
all rights reserved.

Now posted at The NDN Silver Blog, it's a photo meditation for a winter of drought, a contemplation on what was and what may not be again. It's a lesson, too, that we all must learn: If we are to save the world, we are required to save the water, and if we save the water, we save ourselves.

The post is here. Wings's main page is here. As always, Wings's photos are available for purchase in any of the usual three formats; simply inquire via the site's Contact form. Also as always, sales are very much needed (especially now), so shares of the site links are much appreciated.



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.


Sunday, January 14, 2018

Birds and tiny burials. Endless medical expenses. Sales/shares still desperately needed.

Photo copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved.

Sometimes, you just gotta stand your ground.

I took that through the window this morning, which gives you an idea of how clear they are. So clear, in fact, that when I went outside, I found the junco who had smacked into it earlier, right below. Yes, we buried her with full honors. We have to get those red things to put on the windows to keep the birds from hitting them, at least those here in the living room; they don't seem to be running into any but these, but it needs to stop.

She-Wolf seems to be doing pretty well, all things considered, although her BG was jacked way high this morning. I've had to be the bad guy on treats, even those that are pure protein, until we can separate out what's the new food, what's the meds, and what might be just higher numbers from the tumors themselves. She'll have her follow-up this week (and hopefully, so will I). And there is just no end to the bills.

So we still need all the shares and all the sales we can drum up right now, and will for quite a while. There'll be no new work on the house for some time yet, obviously. BTW, Wings has new pieces in the works, items I will likely be posting all next week, so keep checking back. Here are the links; please continue to share them consistently: 
  • Tonight's post elsewhere (just an image tonight, with a smart-ass title);
  • A way to buy me coffee (which actually goes to She-Wolf's & my medical bills);
  • Wings's direct PayPal link;
  • Wings's site, for sales;
  • Wayfair gift cards, to replenish all the furnishings that the RV has destroyed in one way or another.
  • Partial registry #1, from Bed, Bath and Beyond. There are new kitchen-y things on it now, stuff that I didn't realize we'd need to replace (either because the RV ruined it or because we gave it away when we had to downsize).
  • Partial registry #2, from Wayfair. There are some things left on both registries that I thought by now I might be able just to buy outright, but medical bills (mine and She-Wolf's both) have to come first.
I am no more functional than I was a few days ago — less, in fact, although we can't pin down why. I mean, we know it's all part of whatever happened to me in November; it's just that no one can figure out what that is, much less how to fix it. It makes me feel old and decrepit, especially given that I can't take 20 steps without getting short of breath, and I still can't lift or carry anything, which means I'm utterly useless around here. I'm using a cane routinely now when we run errands, and sometimes I just have to stop and sit, because I just can't stand upright another minute. It's profoundly maddening. Still, it's a gift to wake up each morning, even when the wind chills are teens or below; on mornings like this, you get glitter.  Thanks, everybody, from both of us, for everything. Special thanks to the kind soul who dropped some in PayPal again overnight; we see you. 



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.