Friday, May 12, 2017

An Early Wish To Mothers around the world

    HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO YOU AND ALL MOTHERS AROUND THE WORLD
        WHO  LOVE AND NURTURE AND BRING COMFORT TO ANOTHER LIFE.  

               THANK YOU 💗

I post the following every year to honor all the mother's that don't fit the standard image or definition of what we think of when we think of this day. This time I want to add my best wishes also to those who mother, not recognized for what they contribute to the world.

You are seen, you of other genders who mother. You who mother your neighbors children. You who mother animals. You who mother through your financial contributions to children in need.  You teachers who provide mothering to children who might not receive enough at home. You who mother foster children. And for all the children who have to mother themselves. You are no less to be honored today than any other mother who gives succor and safety and Love.

               THANK YOU 💗

"Mothers in shelters. Mothers separated from their children for reasons they don't understand.  Mothers grieving at the graves of departed children gone before their time and mothers sitting at the beds of terminally ill children.  Mothers in prison and mothers separated from their children because of their own addictions.  Mothers without hope who are mourning children who have been taken by spouses who's whereabouts are not known. Mothers holding hungry babies in refugee camps. Mothers whose children have been hurt or disabled in ways neither they nor we can reason nor change. Mothers who have been forgotten by their children today. All mothers suffering every where in this world.   And most especially to mothers, who today, have lost a child."


               THANK YOU 💗

                   

                photo by H.G. Kaiser circa 1915


                                                        

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Dang Blogrolls

I'm having some trouble with my blog.  The list that shows on my "blog manage" page has 24 blogs that I follow and love.  The list on my blog page in the blog roll that goes down the left side only shows 16 of those.

The blogs that don't show up are:

# 1 Summer's End
# 2 Interim Arrangements
# 3 Luncindaville
# 4 My Lily Pad
# 5 Salt On My Tongue
# 6 Stuff From Ellen's Head
# 7 The Accidental Thanatologist
# 8 The Dishwashers Tears

These are all blogs that I love and they show up on my "feed" whenever they post. Otherwise I would not know they posted and therefore could not comment and I am able to successfully do that, and do. All 24 are listed as "following publicly".
Even when I copy one and then erase it and put it in again and hit "public"..........it still won't show up on my blog page.
ARGGHH!
Does anyone know how I can get them to show up on my blog?
I have been trying for 3 days, every single thing that I can think off.  I even deleted some of them off the manage page and posted them again to see if that would work....nothing.  Its driving me crazy !!!!

I don't want anyone's feelings to be hurt, but I am at my wits end.
HELP!!!!


Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Buddha came for coffee

Look at me, three post's in a row! Wow. But this one is even more important, for me at least, than the other two this last week.

When you least expect it, Buddha shows up with wisdom that knocks you on your butt **.  Thank God.

"The root of suffering is attachment", so says my companion, that only my heart can see, across the table by the window. I find coffee shops to often be temples of wisdom.  I'm not one to believe in God in an absolute sense, but Buddha is different. Like the I Ching, I listen, their words reveal and resonate in a way that my simple mind can absorb. I didn't ask for this knowledge, it just sits there, and I just sit there empty, open.  What I had been asking for was someone else to fill a need, I craved it.  The attachment to the outcome is suffering.

I have deleted the blog so I can not read or comment, but that is only for awhile. It is my job to take care of myself, to fill the space, no one else is responsible for that task.  I will go back, soon I hope, because I love this blogger and I have no desire to end that loving.  I'm a fool to walk away permanently and I need to let that lesson really sink in because I can not carry on with the things I need to accomplish in this life pulling a weight behind me. If I can keep my hands open to the grace, when I return, I'll return clean, with no needs.  Practice, practice, practice.

A dear girlfriend of mine says that love is complicated and it is. I'm not going to be able to uncomplicate it. I want it in my life no matter where it lands up, no matter if returned or even accepted. Buddha is so right, attachment causes the pain.  And probably, most likely, this love is actually returned, it just comes in a different door.

                                                             Keep it open.                                 
                                                                        







**I do have a tendency to forget everything within about 48 hrs.  practice, practice.
                                                                       

Monday, April 24, 2017

Seat in upright position -- (seat belt un - locked)

Well, I'm glad that little storm is over, thanks for ridin' it out with me.  Your comments and concern have helped immeasurably. What an amazing bunch of people you are! I couldn't reply that day because, well, you know what it's like.
                                                                     
The days are settled down a bit. And I am grateful that we are still all in it together. I've used this picture before in my India posts and it is just so adorable and appropriate for what happens on blogger - support and joy. 
                                                               we are in this together

I'm glad those storms only come once in a while. And that days of silly happiness are possible even if circumstances are not perfect, as they never are.   Thank you all!

I think, for me, a lot of this anxiety (intensified by a shitty hard time in life) becomes more intensified because I don't eat much. Isn't that silly? I've gotten so used to eating small meals, due to that anxiety, that it never dawns on me that I am still hungry.   My daughter, helped me realize that the other night when she made me list all the things I had eaten that day.  All were healthy, but there just wasn't enough of them.  And I cook, not all that often, but by the time I finish it, I'm not hungry. So today I went to the Deli and got .....  mashed potatoes and gravy, yes I did! It was soooo good, I ate the whole thing, and I bought ice cream.  Neither one so healthy, but easy to eat lots of and I have to get my stomach used to that again. (well ice creams not a bulker, but damn it's good)  Salad is just not going to do it.

I'm going back to see the surgeon tomorrow. This should be interesting, as I think this stupid expensive operation on my sinuses didn't really work. It's been a little over a month and I have done the yuk salt sprays every day, but I still sound like I have a stuffy nose from a cold.  I also have a pretty raspy voice from an enlarged thyroid pushing against my voice box. It's due to radiation from breast cancer, so people are always wondering if I used to be a smoker......I think it's kind of sexy, raspy haha, so I really don't mind if it stays this way, makes me a bit interesting...like a scare on your face. I always wanted one of those too when I was young, just a little tiny one because lots of stars in the old movies had one and I thought, again....sexy/interesting. I wanted to be to be Piper Laurie - but I don't think she has a scar, come to think of it, she doesn't really have a raspy voice either, just deep. Mine is deep too, so, well, there ya go - the teenage mind.

I got the traditional red geranium plants at the nursery yesterday (an homage to my grandmother who had glorious ones planted all along the front of her house). A deep, true red not the orangey one.  They just make me feel happy and connected to a good memory. That's nice.

I've been doing some meditating ---
                                                                                    
That picture incorporates your good advice for getting a dog, Ellen, way up on the list, but a bit down the road.  And I've been doing a bit of yoga...lie, dancing...lie, thinking of moving my body --- well, I am seriously thinking of taking a walk. I actually have found a great place to walk here, it only took 2 years! It's mostly downhill (excellent for that nuisance osteoporosis) and not too much uphill to get back to the beginning.  I'd have to draw you a map to explain it.  I really get bad vides on most of the walks around here, it's weird. I've only seen a live person 2 or 3 times and that is just creepy -- too stepford.

So, onward and upward, Livy girl!!
And, an aside, as I almost always have one.  I read this rant on Facebook the other day about how we are not supposed to call women "girl" anymore. It demeans us especially when used condescendingly by men, I get it, but the article went on to say we put ourselves down a bit when we use it with each other. I don't agree. Sometimes PC goes too far.  I love to say girl - to girl friends and when joking - I just think it's sweet and conveys affection. So, girl, I'm gonna keep on. Boy...not so good, guy, good.

And I'm adding this one now, too, because if I don't I will forget it by the next post.  I had a coke the other day, I wanted to have a little treat. Swear to God, I have not had one in at least 20 years. I just don't care for sodas. It was great, ice to the top, so refreshing.  Thennnn, I had another one the other day, because the first was so good.  Yesterday and today I am totally jonesin' for one.  They are addictive!!!! I will not have another one for a long time, but I sure do understand the soda epidemic in this country.  It took effort for me to say no - after 2! What it must be like for people who can't stop. I feel very sorry for them.

Thanks again -- and take good care.
Liv

Sunday, April 16, 2017

It's my turn

Today was an extremely hard day.
It's been that way for awhile...the panic attacks.

Sunday is the day I always give my daughter alone time, but I've been feeling bad in a lot of ways, physically, psychologically, heart and soul.
I didn't want to go today, but she said she needed it, and I know she does. She really does. She blossoms on these days and it's lovely to see, I feel lucky to see it.
So I sucked it up and gathered my things - I have a little list now of things to take and things to do, they're always the same.  But I forgot it was Easter.  The stores I usually go to,  just to walk around and browse, ( I can not spend money right now) were all closed...the holiday.  The movie theater was jam packed and I don't do well with crowds like that.  Why the fuck does everyone go to the movies on Easter? Don't they have to stay home and eat ham and deviled eggs, and watch their ridiculously huge tv's?!  Starbucks was the same, so there was no sitting to read my book.  Powell's, the book store, is next door and unexpectedly it was open so I figured I could go and watch a movie on the laptop.  The earphones were not in the bag, nobodies fault ... so again, no movie.  And yes --------- I forgot my fucking, fucking book. So I sat there and looked at picture books, for 2 1/2 hours, because by then I couldn't read, and tried not to lay my head down on the table and cry because  I was so without tether that it was killing me.

I hate, hate, hate holidays
They are days of heavy loneliness, sorrow.
My daughter doesn't believe in any holidays, probably because they carry the same weight for her.  I don't blame her - our lives have been crazy hard.
But I just want something, anything to recognize - to get through the day with some semblance of normal. Of being like people who celebrate, even if it's crap celebrating.  

I have only one friend here, but life is challenging for her too. I've been asked to join her and her family before, but I don't really know her kids or her relatives, so it's uncomfortable and depressing and stressful. The last two years have been so full of pain and illness and stress, that it's just not the time to reach out to find new friends - I cry if they're nice and I cry if they don't reciprocate. So I've just given up until things get better and I'm so fucked up and lonely right now that - until - makes me cry too.

I've read a few blogs today, of women that I read and care about and participate with in my sincere and, yeah, kind comments. (and I'm not talking about any of you who have shared yourselves with me, welcomed me into your space - you already know how grateful I am, you know who you are and I know I've said that before and it's getting fucking boring, for both of us)  I have begged more than I should have, asking them to read me, take me in and they don't, I don't fucking know why and it eats at me, little bites out of my heart time and time again, because I can't seem to stop reading them, they're good and I care about them but the silence, oh my god, what the silence does. It is humiliating and I've had a shitload of that in my life. Have I done something wrong? Something bad? It triggers decades and decades of this kind of shit. And I know I've talked about all this shit before and that's getting boring too. I've gotten over so mannny things - I've got to get over this, flush the sorrow, it's shitty and it's in the way. Sorry is nowhere in this today.  It's a bad day and everything is dumping on top of everything else.

I don't have to make sense here today. I don't have to be good. I don't have to forgive today.

I'm spitting all of this out because I was crushed by loneliness already today and they, and perhaps lots of you, are happy with family and food and laughter, and I know it's not that way for everyone.   Some others are hurting, but this is my moment, I get to talk about my fucking sorrow, my pain. I just can't take it today, I can't comment, I can't read Facebook - I feel unworthy and ashamed already because there is no comfort in my day, only silence. So many people know my situation and it's another little bite when people don't think of me - after all this time of writing and talking, whether face to face or type or pen, not friend or family or acquaintance would think - Liv is alone, I'll just tell her I am thinking of her.  My email is there, I'm on Facebook, there is a mailbox at the end of the driveway - oh yeah, I forgot, there's the damn phone.  I'm not trying to hurt or call out anyone and I don't need to be taken care of, do not feel sorry for me. I'm not asking for anything, I'm telling you, I'm telling you how it is,  because you are my friends and I need to scream.  I need.

I don't exist.
I feel like my head is going to burst.
I don't want to be me.
I don't want to be here.
I want to exist.

I want a husband, a partner, I want all my children,  I want a family, I want a home. The chaos and the joy and the bother and the frustration and the safety of all of that. The holy imperfection of all that.
Where is any goddam thing that  t e t h e r s me?

Like my beautiful and dear friend Elizabeth speaks so eloquently about falling,     I get to fall down today, it's my turn.

Sunday, April 2, 2017

Sublime encounters

Yes, I've been out of sight for a while.  Am now post op and feeling a bit better, fingers crossed that this does the trick.  Since the ambulance ride to the hospital last month and the ensuing afternoon catnap in a no less "private" emergency room (fancy that!) has cost in the region of $5,700, (you can get up off the floor now) of which my portion is a pittance thanks to extreme poverty under the Medicare program, I am nowhere near as jubilantly positive about the outcome of a three hour long operation - for which my surgeon was an hour late with no intention of explanation.  There is a limit to the benevolence of Medicare but I am on my knees grateful for my policy.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

If you've been reading for awhile, you might remember that I've had an unidentified sinus infection for the better part of the last year and after three doctors and a remodel of the bathroom (by the fearful landlord praying for the absence of black mold), two cat scans and an obscene amount of antibiotics - you died-in-the wool organics would be horrified -  a bucket of green snot that was vacuumed from my sinus cavity (which I have been spewing out daily for the last 9 months!) has finally been identified as an allergic reaction to a rare feline bacteria....       I'm very sad that this came from Marley and sadder still at the prospect of never being able to enjoy the comfort of such beautiful and loving animals. So sorry about the graphics, if you have a weak stomach, but hey, I had to endure it, you can at least hang in there with me..........I'm smiling.

They also repaired a deviated septum. I'm not sure that was an absolute necessity but they're in there so what the heck.  Pain has not been too much of an issue, but fear of success of this whole thing does occupy my tired brain. I am vigilant about such things as salt sprays and neti-pot cleanses - really, they're a good idea for this age of pollution we live in and the threat of any allergy you may or may not know you have.  The buckets of green snot are gone and now replaced with never ending slimy blood clots, OK, I'll stop!!

There were some complications with the surgery, not least of them being the inability to wake for a full 8 hours from the anesthesia....scary....  Did you know that the effects of anesthesia can last as long as 2 weeks, and even more?  It was done on the 21st and inanimate objects are just now beginning to stop inexplicably grow and shrinking as if I am on a sporadic LSD trip.

I was going to give you a cut-away of the sinuses and deviated things but you are probably happy to put a close to this topic, as am I......please, please heal correctly!
My recovery has been exactly like this, I plan on getting sick much more often!


In other news: my daughter and I have determined it is probably best that the next move in my life should be a final trip to Europe.  I know, I have no real money and the confusion of trying to find a place to live in, that I can afford, will still be there when I get home. The saving grace is that my SS check will be coming in with no expenses going out, so it won't be all that frightening.  But my life has been so without joy and relief from the lingering pains of a lifetime, that if I don't tuck in some happiness and good memories before the end, then I deserve whatever I get. So sucking up bravery from the bottoms of my feet, I will be alone!, is my daily task now.  Besides, contemplating such a trip is the only thing that is staving off panic attacks the likes of which I have never experienced in my whole panicked life.  I had a bring-you-to-your-knees one the other night and scared the shit out of both of us. You know, the kind of hide in the back of the closet and wish you were dead ones, I'm sure you're familiar with them. I pray to God you are not.

I'll leave you with some good news: I've lost five pounds, pale yellow tulips and pick hyacinths are blooming in the front yard. My car is being nice to me and I had the most sublime experience yesterday of standing in a field of vibrant green grass with three small dear deer nibbling their dinner.  We, each of us, locked eyes for about 15 seconds, which are a lot longer than you think, playing who will blink first. It's like talking and I was so happy that they let me stay and watch, as close as 10' away. That's what being born again really feels like. Wherever I wind up when I get home, I hope there is enough quiet and green and space for meeting deer eyes.

Friday, March 17, 2017

Pink is a kind color ***

I certainly didn't expect this.

I took a walk around the property yesterday and was so surprise, turning around a corner to go down to the creek, when I was wide eyed struck by beauty that I didn't expect.  It is still a pretty rainy spring - four days away - but some things do get a jump on it out of sheer joy, I think, at finally being released from the grip of winter.
                                                                           
I'm afraid my camera doesn't do justice to them, perhaps I need a lesson from Carl. They look like peony camillias, a pink I can happily live with. Placed here, they are like a pray to compassion and mercy. It's, as usual, a grey and damp day but when I look deep into the center it reminds me that there is still joy, there is still beauty in this world that is lately clouded by chaos.  


***   An addendum.......this is hysterical .    I have the most god awful grey-mouse hair.  If it's not colored (bleached) people always say...."Is something wrong?"  "Don't you feel well?"  "You look so sad." hahaha  I am additionally blessed with straight, limp, thin hair.  One more thing to envy you about if you are not cursed blessed ....  if you don't have it.  I dyed it this morning.  The pluuuh grey was scary evident as I haven't been well and I let it all go too long.  It didn't come out it's usual bright and happy platinum, it came out slightly corn and dry as a broom, so I decided to use the whole conditioning tube to soften it up a little.  The conditioner is slightly violet, that's supposed to keep the yellow out.  I left it on for about an hour, I'm the person that, sometimes, thinks if a little is good, a lot will be better...........I now have a whole swath of pink hair.  I can only laugh, I'm going to leave it, it's kind of cherry cheery. hahaha

Friday, February 24, 2017

The beauty and truth of the simple and complex

 I don't think I'm alone in writing long posts, am I?  Think of it as a three page hand written letter to a dear friend from a dear friend. We all love to get mail.

# 1
 I have been slowly getting sicker and sicker for two years now.  I've seen my PC, and Ear/Nose and Throat specialist and a Neurologist multiple times over this period.  The symptoms have shown up one by one and now most at the same time, which is probably why no one has been able to diagnose it, that and the fact that doctors don't understand it enough to put 2 + 2 together.  Finally! I had a reputable company out and we got to the bottom of it.   ....  I have Black Mold Poisoning - a build up of 2 fucking years!!  I have been telling the landlord and sending him pictures for all that time. Although he already knew it was here when  he did the walk through and my daughter pointed it out, he's like any other landlord...avoid responsibility-spend no money.  We, she and I, were too stupid to understand the seriousness of this and didn't understand where my symptoms were coming from. It's been very confusing and sad actually, because it's stopped me from doing so much.

 The door to the bathroom (we have two, thank God),  that's where it is because of a former water leak, has been closed for 6 weeks now and several of them have gotten better, but not all.    Shaking, memory loss, fatigue, lack of attention, hair loss, chronic sinus infection (remember - I talked about that in a past post) 7 months !, loss of balance, weakened immune system  --- I just got the flu for the first time in over 30 years and it was so bad I had to be taken to the hospital by ambulance, one day stay, not even overnight - fucking $5,700! - praise God for  Medicare.

The good news is they are completely remodeling the bathroom in the clean up and I am slowly getting better, yippee!
(I don't think this has anything to do with simple or complex, it's just stupid)

The truth: Black mold can kill and you gotta' stick up for yourself....and get educated.

#2
Amazingly, I have been able to do some art, not much, but still it's satisfying. I finished the Madonna, finally !! and put some finishing touches on some of the others.
Top, left and right, birds watching over.
I love that little shell that looks like a fish (or maybe it's a dog..?) Serendipity is a big part of this kind of art.
                         Little blue oyster shell on bottom to hold prayers or momentos.  That little thing       makes me beam, I love it so much - blue, wow!

I love doing this because it's like doing a rubix cube. It's a very complex and calculated art. Will this work, will this work? And magically the third or fourth shell you pick up is perfect.  (That would be when you have about 100 lbs plus of shells to choose from.) I know this is a different kind of art, not contemporary or commercial, it doesn't appeal to the masses but I've pretty much come to peace with that, sort of.  I still feel a little embarrassed because it's not "hip", but fuck - I'm smiling the whole time I'm doing it.

The truth: This is a very complicated  issue for me. It deals with fitting in and I've always been uncomfortable with that.  But it's also simple, we just follow the voice, we just do what we do, there's truth in that, and comfort.


#3
I've been grappling with one of my biggest adversaries a lot lately, envy.  It is particularly tough right now because of my imminent need to find a living space - like in very soon! - that can accommodate my special needs: Bipolar, PTSD and HSP.  (primary colors frightened me and make me gag..hahahah, sometimes it's hysterically funny! sometime not.)

 I have very little money and the time is getting closer and closer so I am panicking.  I need an atmosphere that is aesthetically acceptable with these conditions, or I risk a dangerous depression, I'm very serious about that. It's not that I can't find the middle ground, it's that there is no middle ground, prison or sanctuary are the only options when you're dealing with disabilities of this nature. It's not hyperbole or drama or stubbornness, it's my reality and I've been doing my best to cope with it since I was 3 years old.   I could list all the gory and dark details that got me here, aside from the genetic components, but that's not the important thing, I am here, so I have to find a way through and right now I am thrashing around in the dark. A panic that I've been shoving down for most of my life and is vicious now, is terrifying me. I can't get through a day without thinking - is this going to be my end, is this the place where there are no more steps?  I cry and cry and cry. I have an elastic band on my wrist and I snap it all the time to shake me out of the thoughts. I've never watched more movies in my life, in fact I think I've watched a lifetime of movies in the last year. Netflix and Youtube are anesthetizing.

Thank god I finally have a good therapist. I swear to you if I hear one more person say "You've got to fake it till you make it" or "Have you tried exercising?" or "Have you thought about joining a group?", I'm gonna' sucker punch 'em.  Do I look like a fuckin' idiot??  She understands and respects what people like me go through and how crushing it can be to your life, the only one you've got.  There are no do-overs here. Medication helps, I faithfully take mine but there's a limit to what it can do - we all know that.  I even cheat and take more sometimes...but  that's  not   good ....

So, I envy you. Whether you are sick or depressed or under a burden of  debt or something that seems a dead end for you .....
if you have a family or a job that you like or even often don't, or money, or friends, a lover or a spouse (who is loving or even tolerable), if you get hugs or kisses that come from neither fear nor sorrow or have a yard or a garden, if you live with the possessions that you love and have a home where you can put up wallpaper because you know you'll live there long enough - I envy you.  It's always been a part of my life and I've coped with it in different ways.  And I know there are people who envy me - for my "freedom" or my ability to create or, I don't know what, but they do. So I'm not alone with this emotion, but it is backed with some pretty sharp anger and resentment now.... and that... is not good.

At least I'm not some lost, crazy bitch who only has that emotion. Floating around in all of this is... I like you. It would be so much fun to spend time together, laugh, have those stream of consciousness talks that are soooo fun. And eat!  Eating together is the best. I can't think of a person here with whom I would not love to share a meal...and cooking, ahhh.  Martini's, or you call it!!!  I could go on and on.  I fucking envy you - but I so like you, too.  Sometimes I think the best thing to do would be to take the money and visit each and every one of you and do all those things and then fly to my beloved India, with a loooong stay over in England, and when the money runs out, just walk into the Ganges. Of course I wouldn't tell you that or it would ruin all the fun.  I contemplate this a lot, it makes sense to me.

The truth: I don't think there was one bit of simple in that - Ha!


Love,
Liv
(or like Rebecca say's .... Live ... sweet!) xx


 






                                                              

 




Friday, February 10, 2017

Black and white is just not good

    
However, there are exceptions.
(and look, it even comes with a man!)


I hope you remember me.

I wanted to write a post today, as usual I have so many things to talk about that I know very little about.
But I just can't do it.  I've had the flu, a bad, bad case of it (hospital) and it has done a number on my eyes.  I am having a very hard time looking at black and white. I can watch a movie, because it's all colors (weird, huh?) But the black and white on things like this and reading everyone's blogs just kills my eyes.

I keep wishing that every background was grey.  And isn't that a metaphor for all the crazy that is now our world.  Everything seems to wind up on one side or the other. We either deify or demonize.

I couldn't read the news and I'm getting a headache doing this.  But now that I am crawling out from under this rock slide, I'm wondering where they all are?  Are they just not going to come out until the screaming stops, until something is solved so that they don't have to hold the heavy banner?  Have they all gone on vacation? Perhaps it's a timeshare get away thing and they all had to use up their weeks/months or they would be out a lot of $$. Must be quite a party.

Bill, Hillary, Bruce, Dylan, Barrack, Joe, Emmy Lou and Ms. Steinem (well, she is 82 so let's give her a break)?  - Seriously!? - Willie? (no matter how old he is I'm sure he has something to say). Beyonce (there, I said your name - it was easier than I thought), Prince - God rest his soul - he would have something to say, I think. This is a paltry and sad list, if I felt good I'd put some effort into it.  But geeze, not even one song, guys? Yoko???

I'll get back on the bandwagon here pretty soon and what a great job everyone is doing. I guess we don't need them after all, right?

Send me a get well card, I miss having friends xoxo

(God, I have a bitch of a headache now!)

Friday, January 6, 2017

A mysterious, magnificent, radiant, silly and graceful woman

That would be Elizabeth Grace, my dear daughter.

I wish I could be as honorable, as funny and even half as smart as this woman.

She loves animals, of course you know she's a "bee keeper",  (from my post of June 16th, titled "You said what?!") feeds the birds, longs for another dog, we are sadly renters, has the best lap for cats and they go straight to her, even though she has allergies and never minds.

Babies are drawn to her, she can make them laugh and giggle and wave when they only look at me with a "what?" look.  She's a baby sleep maker when mother's are at their wits end. She longs for one herself and holds adoption like a candle in the window.
                                                                              


She is funny and light hearted and finds humor in almost everything - I don't - so thank God for her and her rapier wit.

                                                                           
After seven hours of massages (she's a therapist) - that's seven bodies, standing for seven hours - 5 days a week, and she still comes home funny! (see below, shhh, she would kill me)  
--  She put herself through massage school, without help from anyone, broke and addicted to alcohol and has since overcome that, to go on to a helping career.  Astonishing! 
                                                                            
   She is fallible and hard to admit her mistakes, but that's because she holds herself to such a high standard. She is rarely ever cranky, but has started her "Cranky" business to help others  not take themselves, and this often hypocritical world, so seriously.
She is beautiful at 43, but never thinks so.
          
Even when she was a fresh new flower at 21.
But she is and always has been.                             


She has had defeat after defeat and failure upon failure that have almost broken her - overshadowed, thankfully, by her accomplishments and her constant ability to overcome. That's the definition of success in my book.

She cries and cries sometimes at the unfairness and lack of justice in her life, and that it is repeated in so many other lives in this world and she wants to save everyone. She has now been heartbreakingly overwhelmed with the insanity of this election and the resulting world wide chaos and, as well, what it could mean for the gay community - so here is what she is doing to overcome that.....
                                                                               
                                                                               
She has bought bag after bag of toiletries and practical survival items and just fun things to distribute to the homeless. She puts them in her car and when she encounters someone on the corner at the freeway intersections, with their signs asking for just a little bit of help, she hands them out.

Mysterious, magnificent, radiant, silly and graceful, I look up to her and hope to become more like her, ~ Elizabeth Grace.

(Don't tell her I wrote this, she would be so embarrassed, (well maybe not, as she is, and would be glad to tell you, a rock star!!) - but she is remarkable and deserves recognition.