Rainbow Goodness

Calling all artists – we know that we do what we do because we love it. I could crochet till the cows come home – and often, they are long tucked into their cozy beds and I am STILL crocheting. But what do we charge when we sell our goods? If I charged even $5 an hour on labor for the large blankets I’ve made for friends, the blankets would literally cost $1,000. Anyone want to comment – as an artist or as a consumer of homemade, handmade goods? What are your guidelines as someone who is selling or buying?

 

Tie dye, hippie placemat of love. ~20"X12.75"

Tie dye, hippie placemat of love. ~20″X12.75″

 

Sunflower Harvest

Sunflowers before, pummeled by our virtual monsoon

Sunflowers before, pummeled by our virtual monsoon

 

Sunflowers after a good haircut

Sunflowers after a good haircut

 

Sunflower noggins drying in the garage. 10 were left outside for squirrels

Sunflower noggins drying in the garage. 10 were left outside for squirrels

 

 

 

 

The Willfull Blind

(A poem in iambic tetrameter – dedicated to those above reproach)

 

The willfull blind refuse to see

They flail about with daggers sharp

Inflicting wounds unknown to them

Aggressive gouging victims’ hearts

 

No sooner do the injured cry

The blind deny, the truth they bend

“I could not harm, I’ve done no wrong

Weak ego now must I defend”

 

“If you are hurt and I’m the cause

I’ll not amend nor see your side

My righteous view must be upheld

Above all else, there is my pride”

 

“Oh sighted one, too sensitive

You misperceive, the fault is yours

You take to heart my wounding ways

The barbs I’ve lobbed, I will ignore”

 

“You crazy, stupid, foolish girl

This kinship we will not prolong

Rejoin the fold, apologize

We Willfull Blind are never wrong”

 

Copyright ©2013 Marianne Decher

Permission to copy and distribute poem if you credit the author. Otherwise, karma will bite you in the rumpus. Photo is in the public domain.

 

 

 

The War Zone

We frequently hear the adage, “I am writing for myself”. In this case, dear readers, it is true. The following post is not so much a public announcement as it is a making sense and order out of the chaos I have experienced in the last 4+ years.

In the past 53 months, I have experienced:

2 car accidents, 2 spinal surgeries within 6 weeks, 2 other major surgeries – one which required 9 days of around the clock Vicodin, career loss at 48, new career at 51, 2nd career loss at almost 52, the loss of many friends and a support network, countless blood draws and x-rays, steroid injections, steroid treatments which made me insanely ravenous and aggressive, 7 MRIs, 2 EKGs, came close to a full on anaphylactic shock, an EVIL painful test on my vertebral disc, an EVIL painful biopsy, vertigo, loss of balance, difficulty processing information, loss of memory, migraines, tinnitus, a 55 dB hearing loss in one ear which resolved after many weeks (a sign language interpreter who can’t hear is a really bad thing), massive narcotics, fasting and 2X bowel cleanses before surgeries, being intubated 4 times, massive chronic pain and nerve tingling, 1 trip to the ER and 3 cancer scares.

In that time, I have had dealings with: a sports medicine Dr, spinal specialists, a nasty neurologist, a fabulous orthopedic surgeon, 3 attorneys, countless nurses, front desk people and insurance folks who ranged from stellar to nasty, a Mt Everest of paperwork, an internist, endocrinologist, otolaryngologist, oncologist, radiologist, dermatologist, gastroenterologist, gynecological surgeon, immunologist, audiologist, a stellar physical therapist and a stellar psychologist.

I would gladly repeat all that if I could UN-DO the worst:

Having to call the police in another state to find my brother’s dead body

Spending 14 hours on the phone informing and consoling relatives around the planet

Flying 10 hours solo cross-country wanting to scream and cry but having to stifle that in public.

You would think the grand conclusion would be obvious but I finally formulated it this week. The most effective torture with prisoners is pain, fear, isolation and massive uncertainty. Obvious things, like getting one’s neck sliced open, are NOT the challenge. The grandest soul-crusher is despair; the daily grinding down through “death by a thousand flea bites”, as Pete famously says.

The grand conclusion is that I just came back from my own war zone; with all due respect to the military, my own Vietnam or Afghanistan. Methinks it’s time to throw myself a ticker tape parade! *Looking for my tiara and practicing my parade wave. Time to trade in the camouflage outfit for my LONG lost sparkly gown.*

Blunder Like Ya Mean It

If you are going to blunder, go big or go home. Yep, that’s my motto apparently.

In my last post, I wrote about being so new to this whole sewing thing that I was surprised to find out sewing machines use TWO threads at the same time. Doesn’t that seem a bit greedy? 🙂

Today, I got to hang out with the ever fabulous Carly, a young woman from Arizona who is here in town for awhile. She went with me to the – as she had to teach me, fabric store not cloth store. Well what do I know? Give me some yarn and a hook and away I go. The whole vocabulary is different in the foreign moonscape of sewing machines. If I crochet, I am a crocheter. If I knit, I am a knitter. But if I sew, I wouldn’t want to be a sewer – because, like, ewww. Doesn’t look right.

So we toddled into the store to purchase my fabric for tonight’s class. What I was trying to express to the refined sales crew was, “Hi, I’m really new to this and expect to make many mistakes tonight. And while this is a very nice store with very nice sales people and very nice fabric (and indeed, it is), I’m wondering if, perchance, you might have some fabric remnants or discounted items I could buy?”

But noooo. What came out was, “I want whatever is cheap and ugly”. Holy Bovine – I didn’t score any points with that one!

 

 

What I learned Today

When a Dr. speaks very abruptly on the phone, it can be fear. I had a hospital procedure done yesterday and although my chart says “NO TAPE”, the staff did indeed, out of habit, use tape (but I was too drugged to say anything). Some portions of my skin are an angry, inflamed red today. I didn’t die, I’m not asphyxiating and I certainly wouldn’t sue. I wish the Dr. could have just said, “Oh sorry. Are you ok?” At which point I would have said, “Sure. Nothing major. I’d just like to know what to ask for next time. Ok, thanks for helping me”. But because of a litigious happy society, the Dr. and I could not connect on a personal basis and he is somehow expected to be perfect at all times. I don’t want perfection, I just want a connection. Ooo, that should be a bumper sticker!

I also learned that people who are very skilled at something forget that beginners need the BASICS. I attended a drop-in sewing class today where I took my first sewing lesson last week.  For today’s type class, people bring their own machines (I borrowed one from the store), they can get help from the experts, but mostly they sit around and chat 🙂 They were very welcoming and asked what quilt I was working on. “Uh, I’m so new I’m trying to figure out how to use the auto needle threader thingie.” Last week I was surprised to find out that sewing machines use 2 threads at once!!!!! Who knew? So while I was trying to figure out how to thread the machine correctly and sew seams on cut squares of cloth, the group leader asked for my number so she could invite me to her quilting gatherings. “So sweet of you but how about we wait until I know the difference between a sewing bobbin and bobbin for apples” 🙂 But mingling with people, learning new things, being in the sewing class and being in tonight’s ukulele class was FUN.

I think the scared Dr. should be less perfect and play more ukulele. I think we all should. FUN is good!

Uke'n have so much fun with a uke!!

Uke’n have so much fun with a uke!!

 

 

Perspective

Today, I played music at the children’s hospital where I am on the floor – unit, technically speaking – with the sick kids. I love when I am tuning up and some bystanders say they like the sound. Easy audience! I hadn’t even played anything yet; so sweet. The ad-lib numbers on the alto flute and therapy harp went well. Had some boo boos and one really bad song on the concert flute along the way.  Oh well. The most interesting thing was struggling to get notes out of my alto flute because I was sliding off of it from sweating. Wheeeee.

Some of the kids I play for are literally fighting for their lives because of cancer. I couldn’t believe, while driving home and listening to the radio, that a blurb came on about “how to survive a bad haircut”. Survive? Seriously??

Once home, I opened a letter from our sponsored child in Guatemala.

Ahhh. Fabulous day.

(If I could get paid to crochet and play therapeutic music, that would be the ultimate!!)

Reverie Therapy Harp. LOVE it!!!

Reverie Therapy Harp. LOVE it!!!

Hardware galore - and a wooden imposter!

Hardware galore – and a wooden imposter!