How do I look so young? Because I'm only "acting" like I'm 47 (...I'm really 24)

How did a whole year just slip by?

It's official: I'm now pushing "50" with very short stick. (Well, only 3 years long.) But, somehow even that just doesn't seem right.

*sigh...
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I still miss my fifth grader more than words can say. (She is still up in the Mountains all week long at her school's Out Door Science School.)

Obviously it appears that she's having a blast - which is the best birthday present I could want.




Life is so quiet. I just wish just wish it weren't this quiet. How long is it till I can pick up my youngest child from school? It's way too quiet around here this week!

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Stop shooting wolves, people.

People are (still) shooting and killing the wolves?! Last time I checked it was 2008.

Nobody lives in The Little House In the Big Woods, anymore. They've put a Starbucks on the corner of Stump and Field.

This is now, and here, on planet, USA, we have things like Tivo, Costco and Drive Thrus. Leave the wild animals alone, I mean. Wolves? Weren't they just on the Endangered Species list? So, now you morons are organizing a "Fly Thru" to kill them? What are these wolves supposed to be any real threat to? Tennis balls?

This is just not what I would call a wise use of time, money or karma.

Give me a break. How is this even up for debate? Does anyone even watch the Discovery Channel? Wolves are amazingly loving, intelligent, and kind and....how is this even a question? Shoot the guy who cut you off on the freeway today, but please. come on...leave the wolves alone.

Wolves care about their own with more love and loyalty than we show each other. Honor them by speaking out to save their lives.

Lawmakers want to hunt and kill these wolves by flying down and shooting at them by air. What kind of society are we to allow this to happen? It's senseless and inhumane. Please read on at the link below and do your part to stop this senseless killing. Please help me and urge Congress to put an end to aerial hunting once and for all!


Look below: Seriously; Could anyone shoot him? (Well, he descended from wolves. And he's more loving than most of my kin folk. And frankly, most of your hens are safe from harm, too.)


(Wolf mantra: "Last night I dreamed about tennis balls. Lots of them...")

My personal "wolf," Buddy, and I would both like to thank you for taking a moment to consider signing a petition to help keep wolves from being shot from the air as they mind their own business, tend to their cubs and try, hopefully not in vain, to struggle to bounce back from the brink of extinction.

If we are humans; Then let's at least act like we're humane.

THANK YOU FOR READING.

BLOG UPDATE:

I WROTE THIS BLOG ENTRY LONG BEFORE I EVER HEARD OF SARAH PALIN. NOW THAT I HAVE, I ENCOURAGE EVERYONE TO MOBILIZE AND DO ALL THEY CAN TO HELP OBAMA GET ELECTED.

read more | digg story

I. Am. "Snow Mommy!"

"Oh, MIGHTY WHITENESS!"


It's official. I did it. I brought it on: All of it; Snow and Ice.

Due to the all seeing, all powerful eyes of me, "Goddess Snow-Mommy," I've succeeded in delaying tmy 5th grader's class trip to Cedar Crest (for a day) due to my hazardous conditions.

Sadly, all my magic Uber-powers over the elements will be gone by tomorrow.

And good thing, too. Juliet is fairly bummed, as her whole class is, to have to wait yet one more day for the camp trip.

I laughed and told her that she may still get to make up that extra day she missed today, because they're talking about another storm coming in just before they are supposed to return on Friday!

Beware the all-seeing eyes of "Snow-Mommy!"

Outdoor Science Camp and Peanut Allergies

Tomorrow Juliet leaves for the San Bernadino mountains for a week in Outdoor Science Camp.

She has a life-threatening allergy to peanuts.

More on what this has meant to me later:

Till then I love this link, I have share this great link called:

(Untold) Requirements for Being a Parent of a Child with Food Allergies

www.allergymoms.com/modules/wordpress/index.php?p=377

One false move

Needless to say, the tragic news about Heath Ledger weighs heavily on my mind in light of my last posting. It seems obscene to make any jokes regarding pain killers today.

We must always take care of ourselves, first. Never get sloppy or reckless with our bodies. One little slip up could lead to profound heartbreak for others.

Brokeback Mountain was flawlessly acted, and almost impossible to watch now.

It was in Heath Ledger's ability to make accessible all of his sensitivity and vulnerability astonished me the most. He was so open. Not to mention his flawless authenticity. You see that kind of work so, so rarely.

His death is truly is like losing, a Dean or Brando. My heart obviously goes out to his family, but also to a generation of people who would have been that much more enlightened if he had only been here longer.

Don't really feel much like writing today.

Opiates are not my friend.

Hi, there.

Sorry not have posted anything or emailed anyone for the past several days, but I've been on strike from my narcotics and am trying to have a bonding experience with my body's own endorphins.

Remember kids, opiates are not your friend.

( they just act like they are )

But, here's the thing. This whole nose surgery stuff really hurts, so you don't want that, either...


And I was advised by my doctor not to add pain to my process of recovery from the six surgeries done on my nose last week; I was told recovery would be a lengthy process involving much patience and and enduring a whole lot of discomfort and/or pain. And so, with guilt-free glee I took one vicodin every 6 hours for pain. As the days wore on, I discovered something alarming...I kind of liked that vicodin.



I love Vicodin. It feels good. Also; Wow! Opiates rev me up. That's just not what I expected, but I might as well have sucked down about ten Venti No Foam Lattes.

Here's how it works:

Take a pill...No More Pain = Let's Play!

I have to tell you, Vicodin gets me riffin' like Miles Davis in a paris nightclub, or like Sherlock Holmes spewing useless observations and other useless flights fancy into the thick as pea-soup London fog regardless of who's listening. I behaved like Arthur Connan Doyle swilling Laudendum while frantic playing his violin out the back garret window. Lucky for him he didn't live next to Jack The Ripper. His neighbors must have wanted to strangle him.



(You know? I did this after giving birth, too. I mean, RIGHT after giving birth. But, that's another story. )


When I'm not sharing (key word; "Share." - Uh, oh.) my new insights with somebody who will listen, my right brain mercifully shifts into a lower gear and morphs into an FM interview between Terry Gross my left brain. And, see this is part where I actually wish I were more tired, but I can't turn the radio off.


And while my right brain is enjoying it's interview with my left brain, the problem kicks in when it occurs to me that I really should have someone to share all this with.


It is kind of like; "Hey! What is this?! I have to play to an empty Kareoke bar?! Where is everybody?!"


And Pain? What Pain? Look at all this free time to rearrange the inside of my head! Can't wait to share all this with, well, naturally, everyone.


When taking narcotics: I am not tired. And I am not in pain. I am happy and I'm so happy I'm not in pain that I want to share my euphoric feelings and insights with everyone!


So, after the second time I heard myself tell the kids,


"Okay, would you PLEASE hurry up and FINISH your and then GO watch some TV?! Mom doesn't feel good and she really needs you to hurry up so she can take more pain meds." I realized...Clearly, not words a child longs for Mom to speak. So, I just stopped taking vicodin, Period.


I replaced it with some lame-o Tylenol. Big whoop. My face hurts again, I'm really, really achey, cranky and drained, BUT -- I'm not crazy anymore. So, I think I'll stick to the Tylenol. But, it seems a lot more honest and a lot safer.


In any case:


I haven't had the energy to deal with emails, blogs or even phone calls ....But, it's been a much more grounded and centered way to recover. I rest because I feel I'm tired. I move about when I want to and not just because I am strapped into my personal jet-pack when the flying monkeys come over for tea.


So it's Sunday and since last Thursday...I've-a been-a movin' really slow. And I've just stopped worrying about picking up anything off the floor and as long as I can get the kids to and from where they need to be with the right amount of food in the fridge, then that's how it's going to stay.


Brilliant conclusion#1 : When we endure a trauma, we are supposed to slow down and stay slow and trust the process. Jump-starting recovery with Uber-pain killers and masking the pain is not really something beneficial all the time...at least, to all people, all the time. I'd hate to knock pain killers if I really need them, it's just always a shock how they can alter our perception of things, I guess. Which, is the point, I guess. (Duh.)


Brilliant conclusion#2 : When obsessing about the most insignificant things in the world, do NOT take vicodin, sit in a darkened room lit only by a speedy internet connection and attempt to "stay in touch" with others. It may feel like the right thing to do, but, it won't be. Unless your friends, are Kurt Cobain, William S. Burroughs and all the extras from a Gus Van Sant film; Well, the truth this, you'll only bore and alienate those you love.


Brilliant conclusion#3 : When in doubt, do shut up.


More later. I'm tired now.

Louise.

Day 4. It's not so bad, really.

Sunday morning.

Today, I actually feel & see some improvement.

Also, I don't feel quite so packed and horrid anymore.

There is progess.



L.

Just had my sinus surgery...

For some writing is therapy; For others; an indulgence.
For some, it's both.

This Thursday I took the plunge and went in to USC to have a Septoplasty and Rhinoplasty done.

I decided if two years+ of antibiotics wasn't enough to cure "Severe Chronic Pan-sinusitis" that perhaps by getting this procedure would help. But, I won't lie: I hate hospitals. And I wasn't looking forward to this.

However, I'm hoping this will end a long battle with sinus problems over the years.

If you wonder why I'm posting these, it's because I would have liked to have been able to see what other's post-op photos of this procedure were (that were not not posted by any particular medical office.)

This is how I looked the first day:


Even though I am an avid fan of both David Lynch and David Kronenberg, I am opting not to gross out people just for thrills, so trust me; these are the "better" shots here.

(However, if you really, really want more details about this event, by all means, feel free to email me. I'm happy to send on the more vivid images.)

Let me put it like this. I look far worse now, on my third day in, than I look in these photos. I have had to shuttle my children off for the entire weekend in an exhausting round of of endless "playdates" so they do not have to stare at my bloated, swollen, bloody face.

Here's how it feels on day three: Like crap.

It's taking every ounce of energy not to rip the taping off my nose, since the surgeon has "taped it up" for the next week at a rather "pig-like" angle. It hurts and bugs the crap out of me.

I also have this maddening sensation of suffocating because the packing in my nose and sinuses is still in and I'm "draining" out my nostrils at a steady drip, drip, drip of bright red. Swallowing any food or drink is virtually impossible to due without your ears feeling like they are imploding.

Also, as of yesterday my eyes have become so swollen that they are bulging out of my splint like bright purple, shiny bulbs. The sharp plastic edges of the splint are now poking into my eyes just near the tear ducts, so it feels like someone is constantly holding a plastic fork prong in both tear ducts. It's maddening.

image removed by blog author now that she's come to her senses...

NOT THAT I'M COMPLAINING.

When my husband is with me, he is very good at speaking sternly to me to not give in to panic. But, he's not here and the desire to rip these bandages off my face is very accute. However, I will breathe deeply and go find some more pharmaceuticals at this time.

Zen. There's nothing to do but enjoy the ride, right? I'm out of the plane and all I have is a long ride down with this particular parachute and fighting the facts won't work here. I must float on and trust the process....

(When was the last time I took a vicodin? I must have another around here somewhere.)

Louise

Miss Vermont. (No, I mean I really miss Vt.)

I've been doing laundry from our trip to Vermont. However, I don't get very far because I keep pulling items out of the pile when they smell like the cabin.

I don't know if I can describe the scent, it's sort of a mix of cedar and snow. I feel as if I've just broken off a clandestine affair as I hold the clothes up to my face and inhale all the memories.

It's gray here in California. Since we've returned here the news has incessantly warned that we will soon to be "slammed with storms." I have been waiting. I heard it rain lightly last night. And I see clouds. They really don't know storms here.

When I wake, I see the gray in the window and expect to see white covering the world hear the soft hum of snow plow in the distance. But, that is gone now.

I see cars. Hear cars. Smell cars. I do see some clouds, though.

Homesick for Green River, Vt.

What I'd listen to if I could be back in that cabin right now.

In Our Bedroom After The War.
Artist: Stars