Penis Problem

OK so as I was driving home from my annual mammogram today, and I thought, boy I need some serious levity.

(everyone get a mammogram)

I am super bumming out everyone, including myself.

I had a good cry this morning, and fell asleep WAY too early last night..poor Barren.

He is a little worried about me.

So I thought, what made me laugh recently, and I remembered the call from Mom asking me to

"come fix her penises"

Yep.

My parents home borders a public walking path. It has chain link fencing and is maintained mostly by the homeowners that butt up to this path. The city forgot about many many years ago.

So my mother felt that it should be a public art gallery.

They also live across the street from an elementary school and so kids walk to and from school

via this path everyday.

My mom writes notes in chalk on the ground wishing them a happy first day of school

and summer vacation and stuff like that.

Adorable, I know.

She has also COVERED her side of the chain fencing with painted boards that she has asked others to decorate. My grandmother, myself, my father, my niece and nephew...you get the idea.

Well recently, she thought it a great idea to leave extra white painted boards beside the fence to offer up the opportunity for other kids in the neighborhood to paint and she would hang them for all to see.

She goes out and checks the fence every few days, and finds a new piece from someone hung via zip ties and is simply over the moon about it.

Well.....

a few little monsters have found this same oasis of adorable and started drawing penises on some of the artwork:

He doesn't look to bothered

this fish may never blow number bubbles again

poor purple dino/giraffe

So every once in a while I get a call from mom that asks me to come over with a box of paint and

"fix her penis problem"

Penises are funny, and little boy/girl versions of what penises can do

is always good for a laugh with me!

The condition of being mortal

Moonrise

So I have had a really strange week or two, it doesn't come as a total surprise that my dreams would reflect this reality.

I am thinly veiled that way.

To start with a childhood friend was just diagnosed with breast cancer.

It appeared between yearly mammograms in one breast.

 She was considering a prophylactic double mastectomy to avoid cancer showing up in the second breast; but, while waiting for labs, a period of two weeks, additional lumps in the first and new ones in second breast appeared.

She is a mother of two boys, one of which had a long battle with cancer himself, and is currently in remission.
It is events like this that make me question life and a higher being.

As I was bra shopping the other day, all I could think about was her. She and her mom took me bra shopping for my first bra, I think we had "mosquito bites" (that is what my Nana use to say)

She is not going to have breasts any more. All I could think about is how selfish of me to be so concerned about finding a bra that wouldn't show through my tee shirt.

This shopping trip was followed by a road trip to a friends wedding, The Barren was playing guitar for the wedding march with one of the brides uncles, it was the first public performance for the Barren so I went to witness this big event.

The bride is a professional dancer, who married a navy seal.

The church was near base, and so there were a lot of military families around. In fact, the whole town was pouring over with babies, pregnant women and toddlers.

There were hours of talk about babies and starting families and it all made sense.

The base felt like a haunted waiting room.

Loved ones leaving and others waiting for months, year after year.

It broke my heart and gave me a new and deeper appreciation for military families.

New brides and new parents.

It broke my heart and made me cling to The Barren even more.

Literally

The following day, Father's day, some of the brides family was gathered at an aunts home.

An uncle, went upstairs and never came down.

It was quite a shock, and totally unexpected.

This Uncle was the brother to the other musician that played in the wedding.

A friend to The Barren

Death seems to be all around me right now

And then today, I awoke from a dream that has me scratching my head.

I had a dream I had IVF done, on a whim. My eggs were projected onto an overhead projector for us to see prior to insemination. They were flat oblong shapes, three of them. Like, grains of rice, broken and poorly shaped.

I had them inseminated and then was told to have an orgasm to "set them deeply into my uterus"

We went to a movie theatre afterwards that was filled with people I recognised from high school. Unaged and staring at me.

I began to have a panic attach and grabbed The Barren and was crying

" I can't do this, these babies will never grow, they are all broken.

I can't go through all this pain again"

Then I woke up

 I am not sure I know what this means...I am feeling loss

In newer and deeper ways maybe?

I know I do feel lost

The Why Am I's

photo via My Vintage Dollhouses

So every once in a while I want to organize my life.

I end up doing a half-assed job; doing enough to make the frantic beeping in my head stop and then move on to other tasks.

I am easily distracted by my own "to-do" list.

About two weeks ago, the community fire alarm went off and I was home working so I went to see what it was. It ended up being a sprinkler that blew in a neighbors garage, flooding it and drenching the contents. No fire, thank goodness...but it took over 4 hours to turn off the water!

The renter had all his work tools in the garage and what wasn't in a plastic box, was soaked.

The fire dept, couldn't turn off the water, because it was managed by the fire sprinkler company who couldn't come out until later that day to reset the sprinklers and the alarm people needed to stop the alarm but couldn't do it until the water was turned off. You see how this turned out...the "best part" was that the alarm for the sprinkler is not connected to a central call center/dispatch place. So it is really up to fellow neighbors to call police or fire department people.

If I wasn't home who knows how much longer that water would have poured into the garage and street!

 Ugh

I felt horrible for the neighbor, but more so frightened for our homes well being in our absence, because we don't really have outgoing neighbors.

If something happened to our home, I fear no one would call the people needed.

 Everyone would say " huh, why is that alarm going off? it is really bothering me" close their window and go about their business.

Sad but true. We live in a community of disconnected people.

(being the crazy lady I am, I am making a sheet of phone numbers of neighbors I say hello to on a regular basis and giving them our cell numbers too)

This of course set me into a personal tailspin of what ifs....

I started looking around our home and thinking of everything that would be destroyed by water, the cats would be traumatized but alive and wet. Then I went into our garage...ugh

We have collected many many many things. In fact when grandma's have passed we were delivered many boxes of "precious items" and "heirlooms" that we must have.

Plus my art exhibitions and framed work etc....

I went out and got a storage unit.

I spent this whole last weekend working through the boxes, and boxes of things...I have a hoarder living inside me apparently. We have boxes and boxes of things for the garage sale at the end of the month, and a pile of things that is going to the local thrift store.

But we also have several things in that new locker....mostly my things.

The biggest being my dollhouse.

My parents made me a doll house for my 7th birthday, it took several months to make. It was worked on every night in secret in their bedroom. They made it from discarded orange crates and found wood at the local market. My father created a wooden floor in the kitchen with a wood burning tool. The cupboards are made from butter dishes turned on their sides and scrap lace made the curtains. Each room has different carpet, as they are all scraps from the local carpet store. The roof is hinged as once the doll house was complete my parents realized it wouldn't fit through the bedroom door!

There is a picture of me next to the house on the day I got it, I am standing on a chair and doll house is next to me but still taller then I am.

Later, they made my brother a mechanics garage with fuel pumps and an attached home (kind of Sanford and Son-ish) using the same techniques.  

 

Needless to say, I am deeply, emotionally attached to this doll house

and I imagined I would pass it on to my child.

I have kept all the items that had, for years, decorated the home

and it seems more of a time capsule then anything else now.

It is substantial and takes up a lot of floorspace.

When hubby causally mentioned getting rid of it I broke down and started sobbing.

 How can I?!

(that question was never broached again)

We moved the doll house into the storage unit on Sunday, it has been entombed in many ways.

My brother is not sentimental with things, so I asked him how he can throw away/give away things that are so deeply linked to his childhood. Does he not have second guesses or regrets?

He simple said: they don't mean anything to anyone else but me. So why keep them?

 I am left dumbfounded...

I can't think of a person who it would mean something to besides myself.

In fact, that is the impression I am getting about much of what I can't seem to let go of.

old love letters, stories I wrote in elementary school that sheds light on my mind and emotions then.

Who am I holding on to this for? Why do I still need to know that it is there?

I feel at times that I am making strides in coming to terms with not being able to be a mother, and then stuff like this sneak attacks me.

It was like, The Barreness turned on the fire sprinkler and drenched me in the memories and the what should have beens. 

Until I can figure it out, I place them into plastic tubs and store them away.

At least I can keep them dry.

Sunday

I am actually at home all weekend, and working on some new work; while fielding calls from Mom and Dad asking medicine questions.

This is good, because not only are things getting a little better there, I also got pancakes yesterday!

Hubby makes a mean pancake and I am only to happy to be part of the taste testing as he explores new recipes. He loves my belly...so I am happy to fill it with pancakes!

Sunday for some reason is one of most favorite days...I don't really know why, as the looming following day of work is one that makes the day seem shorter...as its casualness is often interrupted with chores and crap like that....but I really love the sleepiness of Sunday.

One of my many favorite things to do is make tents for the cats.
Yes, I am that woman

Mental health time

So my mind is pretty cooked, I am sure that comes as no surprise to most of you.

(the fact that I can say that is still amazing to me,

I have people that actually read this blog

and write lovely little notes to me )

Anyhoo, it might be another week before I can really put words together in a way that makes sense*.

I am currently re-charging my laughter cells, and heart with a book a dear wonderful friend sent me:

book info

I literally can only read for moments before I am laughing so hard tears are rolling down my cheeks

I am so thankful for that

This weekend, I spent my first two days away from mom

(well, except for calling at medicine taking times to make sure dad was on top of things)

I read, napped

and hung out with hubby.

I totally had nothing in me when Sunday came around....I came to peace with this

as I was soaking in the tub Saturday night.

I looked up at hubby; who was keeping me company

 so I don't fall asleep and drown

and I said

" I don't think I have anything left to give to mom right now...I gonna have to call her instead"

He said: "well you did just mostly kind of spend the last month keeping her alive, I think she'll understand"

She seemed to; she called me last night to tell me that she went to the Farmers Market and met with some friends and then came home and fell asleep for four hours.

Today she meets with the doctor who last did his exam on her while she was out cold...she snored thru the whole exam. I think he'll be happy with her progress.

A toast to antibiotics!

*see I am a little loopy still, I'll me more normalish soon

***p.s. I just got a call from my mother, telling me she has decided to stop taking some of her medications.

She is fine.

It might be a little longer then a week....

So many days have past....

blood transfusion

I am sad to report that I have been spending this last month in the hospital.

I am not the patient but instead my mother still is.

The infection spread to her knee, or started there, or her mouth post dental work or in her bladder or in her kidney or....the theories are stacked but none hold a clear answer.

Not all of us are cut out to be caregivers, it requires a kind of patience that after serval days wears thin...and then thinner and thinner and thinner. My parents dealt with it over and over again, with grandparents living with us because no one else stepped up.

I was the person who stepped up first and stayed the latest.
I am not tooting my horn, in fact I have a really hard time accepting compliments or accolades for anything I do. Which makes acknowledgements of what I have done this past month make me want to run for the hills.

pages of observation

So, I have essentially been living by my mothers side this last month; so my father could get some sleep and do some work that was piling up and visit his clients.
I worked when I could at my other job, for an hour here and there; waking at 4:30am to call the nurses station and then send 10 people text message early am updates, then get myself dressed and drive the 45minutes into town to sit at the hospital all day.

Write down every pill she took, every temperture recorded, every minute of how long she slept and what she was hallucinating about. Ask the correct questions of doctors and chase down nurses or get cups of ice. Send my father home to make sure he ate and took his evening pills and got some time with his eyes closed. Send text messages all day long to additional people as they requested new information and came up with questions of their own. Then around 7pm, put myself into a car, drive the 45minutes home, arrive home and remember that I had not eaten all day, find something in the fridge or on the counter to push into my mouth before taking a shower, kissing my already sleeping hubby and crying myself to sleep to start it all again.

I haven't seen hubby but for the evenings, as I crawl into bed. I haven't had any studio time in the last month. I have missed submission deadlines, avoided answering emails, gave up my garden plot, and put everything else on the back burner.

Although I speak to my brother throughout the day, my brother took the time to send me a text thanking my for everything I have done, as he is not able to be as patient as is needed or as compassionate as the situation requires. It made me cry.

My hubby told me on the phone that a co-worker asked how he was, he said:

" my wife leaves really early in the morning, and I don't see her all day.

Then she comes home really late at night,;she sits for half an hour and cries and then

falls asleep. Night after night"

I got a call from my father last night while driving home telling me that my mother chose me to be her physical therapst for her home care. I started to cry, weep...I am spent.

After a sleepless night, I found the inner advocate this morning and told my father during our early am call that I can not be everything, mother needs an outside PT person. I can help do the homework but someone else needs to be added to the mix.

It was amazing to hear those words come from my mouth, I felt horrible telling my father that I couldn't do something for my mother or him. I struggle with that but know that I need some mental health time too.

As I was sitting next to my narcotic doozing mother today, wondering if I would ever see the fighter that she once was again, she sat strait up and said " I want to walk outside"

We got up and out the door....it was her longest walk in the last month.

She went out the door, to the neighbors, turned and up a walking path...and back inside.

It was like winning the lottery, like maybe it will be ok afterall.

Maybe I will get my life back again and have breakfast with my hubby again soon.

Breaking out of her box

Once a year

Once a year I reveal who I am...the rest of the time I am simply The Barreness

In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week:
I revealed myself...and now I am in the shadows for another year.

xoxxo

Open Love Letter from The Barren

image by Lewis W Hine

As a total surprise to me, hubby wrote an open love letter to me for my birthday.

It was so unexpected, so deeply moving and honest that it took me to my knees.

I will share it here with you:

" I hope it's not too boastful to say I'm the luckiest man on this wall. Other walls have lucky men and women, i'm quite sure, but if you've landed here to celebrate The Barreness's 42nd orbit around the sun, I'm here to say I win. The amazing thing about The Barreness is that she's got enough awesome to make sure all of us win too! (just not quite as much as me)

She is gentle and kind-hearted with everyone (...except drivers on cell phones, these she curses and gestures at wildly...it is kind of scary); she is generous and giving with a casualness that belies the focused consideration she has for those around her; she has an infectious smile that she hides too often; she is honest, and wears her heart on her sleeve even when she knows it might get hurt; and she has a wellspring of creative talent that constantly surprises.

There are more personal aspects of her awesomeness, of course. She's beautiful, and she's got mad sexiness (rawr!). She can calm the crazy in my head with a simple hug. She's the perfect source of stinging criticisms that I know are true (I can't seem to listen to myself for some reason). Her eyes give credence to the saying that they are the windows to the soul.

I feel so lucky to have known her these last 20 years, to have grown up with her, to have tackled the many difficulties in life together that would have been so much harder to face without her. For these reasons, I feel like I've won...I feel like all of us have won (just not as much as me).

Happy Birthday, my love! "

Clearly I have won the jackpot,

found the pot of gold,

went over the rainbow

and eaten the last piece of the award winning pie

My birthday wish is that each of you find this kind of love in life:

in a person,

in a passion,

in a hope.

It is my birthday

image from Vintage Rose Girl

It is my birthday, smack dab in the middle of NIAW...

I use to feel miffed that it fell on "secretary's day" but

I think being reminded of being infertile all week might trump it.

Anyways, there has been enough thick emotional sludge to drag myself through in these last two weeks that I decided that yesterday was the perfect day to start the party.

I sat and had a pity party yesterday afternoon...and then by the early evening I had blown off

enough sorrow to re-focus on some art and my submission to "the way I see it" exhibit over at

The Ladies In Waiting Bookclub site.

I arrived at work this morning, convinced it would be just another day, and my little brother surprised

me and had gotten up early and made me cookies.

They were even warm when he haded them to me.

I am feeling very loved

May this be the start of a wonderful birthday week!

(after the age of 30 you get to celebrate your birthday for a longer time each year,

 didn't you know that? )

Happy Birthday to me

Fragile

I was rushing off to the ER again yesterday to meet my parents. My mother was in pain once again and her bladder was not letting her sleep; making her go to the bathroom every 15minutes.

As I was racing into town, I sent a text message to a friend
 " mom back in ER, I am off to meet her there"

Within a moment, I got a response
" do you need help"

this caused me to cry....not only was the response immediate, but it was an offer from the heart.

I responded
 " I might need an ear to listen later"

immediately followed with a
 " I am here for you"

I felt comforted...and not alone in my journey back into the dark of emotion.

Last week when my mother was in a sleep deprivation state of delusion (she hadn't slept in 4 days and was given an anti anxiety drug to help her sleep; but all it did was agitate her further) she started directing her anger at me.
My father was not allowed in the room (she didn't want to see him) and so heartbroken,
he sat all day in the waiting area.

My mother was convinced that we had put her away. 

I had disappointed her terribly and that "you don't know what it means to give motherly love"

(that was the mildest of her thinking about me) 

after being berated for over two hours I finally called in my brother.

text read:

" I need your help, mom is convinced we have put her away"

My brother arrived and repeated the words I had been saying to her for hours:

No you can not go home yet, you are not healthy enough to go home

Don't pull on your catheter

Your oxygen needs to be in your nose

You can not stand up, your legs are weak from being in bed for four days

She heard him, and aside from removing the batteries from her heart monitor
she behaved herself for him and her nurses.

She refused to make eye contact with me,
 and when she finally fell asleep at 5pm on the 4th day, she slept for 8.5 hours.

I spent the night in the hospital (dad was not allowed in the room still and my brother needed to get back to work), so they wouldn't restain her;
 I feared when she came to from her sleep she would feak out she was restained
 and I got her cathater removed so she " had no strings"

I stayed awake all night.
Watching her and making sure she was safe

When sleeping beauty awoke from her first slumber, she was confused but remembered that she had said some really mean things to me, and started to cry.

I held it together, just barely...

She thought she was in a mental health ward, I told her she was in the hospital

She had a lot of gray areas, and I was happy to answer any questions she had.

I stayed until my father arrived and they were kissing and my dad was proposing to her again.

Then I drove home and took a nap.

I was shaking for most of that day.

Yesterday when the ER call came, I went into "figure it all out" mode again.

I left the house this time and set up a catch-net for myself.

I cried on the way there, and by the time I arrived I was together and able to listen to what doctors said, what my mother wanted and what my father needed.

Consoling my father and advising my mother

When I arrived home at the end of the day Hubby made me a HUGE bowl of Mac and Cheese
 and I sat in my PJ's staring at the wall for a while.

When I finally said something I said: "we are all so fragile"

dazed and emotional-wordless wednesday

This was my everything since Friday afternoon:

My mother was rushed to the ER on Friday and it was discovered that she had a kidney infection that had gone septic, completely dehydrated and dropped her blood pressure to deathly levels.

She is home now

I am speechless today.

Call for artists and creative peeps!!

For detail and entry info click: HERE

Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday-

Remembering to keep believing, in yourself and others

Friday

It is Friday!

I have been in the studio and in the office all week and I really don't have any real thoughts.

I am in a good mood and making things again, so that my mind has less ammunition to attack me with.

I thought I would post a pic of my cat...well one of them.

I have two that I live with

(if you are a cat person you understand that he shares his home with you, not the other way around)

No I am not a crazy cat lady, and as Nicole points out: nor is my cat a kid replacement...

he is a great companion that serves as a company keeper, mood enhancer and bed warmer. 

His thoughts today:

Tonight is the first night of Passover, and my parents home will be filled with all the family that makes me the least comfortable.

There is a group of comfortable family and a group of family that makes me feel judged...

tonight is a night of judges. ugh

I hope that this weekend will counterbalance tonight and be filled with more studio time and a bright and quiet Easter on Sunday.

I wish you all

A Happy Easter and a merry Passover

Friday Funny

I needed a laugh and this fit the bill!

5 minutes of a laughter and carefree singing

*Pop*

Clarence White
American, 1871–1925
Blowing Bubbles, ca. 1900
Vintage cyanotype

I got the depression bubble to pop!

It took a GREAT DEAL of effort, I am not going to lie.

It got dark friends...real dark...I went to places I hadn't visited in a long time.

It was a scary walk through a quiet and dank place.

I even thought about calling my therapist, someone I haven't seen in almost two years; but she gave me the tools and I remembered them as I hung from my fingertips off that cliff.

I worked through it, and used words when questioned in my corner.

I allowed my hubby to see that I was struggling, and he knew what and where I was on my journey. I cried finally and figured out what I was so angry and sad about and then the bubble popped!

It felt so liberating and logical,

I didn't dismiss the process or the work.

It truly SUCKED

Saturday night I had a chance run-in with a collector of my work.

The first question he always has is "You making new work?!"  

I answered that I was trying.

....but as hubby and I were walking away he looked at me and said:

"you are always working on something, even when you are not using your hands, you are thinking of new things and brainstorming about others"

This was something I heard: louder then my mean destructive voices, stronger then the giggles The Barreness was whispering into my ear, and clearer then the dark humm of chaos.

***

Yesterday I spent in the studio, finally!

I took breaks for hugs from hubby

it was like having extra mortar added to my newly restored foundation.

Fighting it all

So I am sure a few of you might have picked up on me fighting some blues these days...

maybe it is a post travel blues thing, maybe it is the creative slump I am in

whatever it is I am fighting it tooth and nail and

trying to find what the switch is and how to turn it in another direction.

The girls day was nice, but I felt so unbelievably lonely when the ladies all went home.

It was like my house was three times quieter and I was sitting there with plates of half eaten food, buzzing from 4 or more cups of tea.

Hubby was gone and I had no one to call...so I left the house and went to wander.

I left he house in an effort to not sit in front of the tv and then hours later

 wonder " what have I been doing with my life?"

I went to the music store.

Yes, I still buy music from an independent music store, I buy whole CD's worth of music and I love LOVE cruising thru bins and aisles of music.

Thank goodness for the "music listening stations" or else I would buy music based on my aesthetic whims and

that has not turned out well in the past.

I bought two CD's I have been thinking about:

The Civil Wars


and the newest
 Radio Head

I am not totally in love with either yet.
but they are growing on me...

In the meantime I got three TOTALLY AWESOME hand mixed CD's from Nicole

I literally cried, I was so touched and excited. What a superhero that woman is!

This last Friday I got to have a date night with hubby. I took him out to dinner and then we were going to see a movie, but the movie we wanted to see got panned and we were not intoxicated enough to forgive that off so we skipped the film and ended up in the music store again.

This time we both spent a good bit of time finding little gems.

Hubby listens to a lot of metal; I can list his purchases if you are interested
We listen to a wide range of music to say the least

This time I bought these albums:

Foster the People

James Brown

Tennis

Cults

I can say I am happier out the gate with these

For me, Music is good, it helps me in moods that I can not seem to control.

Like a scout, leading me through emotions that I either need to deal with or need to walk past.

Needless to say, I am still fighting my fight, but now I have a better soundtrack then my mean voices looping and trying to set me into a downward tailspin

Wordless Wednesday

Treats for you: treats for me

How to make this cake: HERE

It was amazing!

I had no control over the size of the slice, my host handed it to me like this

I didn't finish it, mostly because I had already climbed the walls and offered to clean her rain gutters from all the sugar : )

mmmmmmm sugar

Well try as I might, I keep finding little reminders of my phone call from the nurse all over the house....

and it is depressing the hell out of me.

So, I have invited pretty much every lady I know over to my house tomorrow.

I figured nothing would make me feel better then a good ol'girls day.

I am making a hazelnut cake, and some other little things to snack on.

 Then I will sit on my couch and wait for some friends to arrive thru the day.

Hubby is off to Vegas for a weekend with friends and a celebration of his birthday.

The last thing I need right now is a weekend alone to JUST THINK

that never really spins into a good thing

I am also still working on my 3000 photos from Ireland and I thought you all needed a little break from all this doom and gloom too, so here are a few for your enjoyment:

The Inagh Valley-said to have inspired the creation of fairy tales

Me walking the ruins at Clonmacnoise, founded in 545

Guerrilla knitters in Sligo

Hubby overlooking the Burren

a typical town pub, the two men seen are a fisherman and an undertaker

The games we play

The nurse called today with my results..."blablalalababab"

Yeas, same shit, new shit, but mostly I don't want to deal with it.

She ended the call with words I have heard before,

the brush off words, the, we don't know what else to do words...

the we don't want to have to constantly deal with this phrase

" You should really contact the OB/GYN department about this"

My response was one word: "Why?"

The Barreness has been busy: New cyst, new changes in the old one she has been tending

to for the last few years.

New count on the fibroids

Damn that bitch

Post valentines day

Many believed that valentines day is a special overly love filled day created by commercial media groups to rake up additional sales. In many ways that is true...

In light of this, I try to flip it a little and take moments out of the day to think about love in general. How can I give more, believe I should receive more and do more loving things.

All these thoughts do not require purchasing anything.
My hubby is a romantic and the night before he asked me what I wanted for valentines day.

Seeing that he was asking me in the dark while in bed and at 11:30pm

I made up a list that is as follows:

I would like:

truckloads of jewelry

hour after hour of flowers being delivered to me at work

A personally designed sunset

a Unicorn with a rainbow mane

and world peace

Hubby quietly responded " um, I see where you are coming from but a personally designed sunset is gonna be kind of hard"

At hearing this we broke into hysterical laughter and fell asleep

the pre-ultrasound breakfast of bladder expansion

Today as a"treat to myself" I went and got my quarterly ultrasound...well I haven't gone since June, so it was pretty long overdue...and after last months kick in the uterus I was a bit more motivated to "see" what The Barreness had done to the place.

I got a last year student and my normal wonderful tech.

To see this talented and kind tech, I have to check into the hospital before each ultrasound.

The part I dread the most is the "full bladder" part, it still makes me the most anxious...you can probe me for half an hour or more and I could care less; but the full bladder things fucks with my mind.

**

Well today I got an extra treat, today they decided to try a "3D" image of my whacky ladybits.

The student kept saying "I know how to put together the baby face, but this one is new" it required taking extra pics of my uterus that they then piece together for a 3D image.

If it works out I should be able to request it in about a week.

That could be cool!

I left feeling that everything was ok, and that this is my normal...I can stay here for a couple days until the results come in and reality strikes again.

So, however you chose to acknowledge Feb 14th, I hope that the day was a little different and you did something nice for yourself.

A little sweetness

Last weekend we had a mini getaway....mostly from our colds!

We refused to stay indoors anymore, so we drove to pick up our wine (yea we belong to a wine club)

Needless to say, I had to get these:

wine infused cupcakes, they are made to pair with the wines we went to pick up.

I do have to admit, this was not the first time I had them, in fact I get them every time

Find some sweetness this weekend ladies...it may only be for a moment but it is all yours to have!

Musical Interlude

I don't care if they really made the music this way...it feeds the Rube Goldberg geek in me.

OK Go - Needing/Getting - Music - More Music Videos

Ramble On...

Aside from the deep sorrow of losing people in my life; I find witnessing others struggle in that grief just as heartbreaking. Maybe even more so....

I was asked over and over again after the services "how are those beautiful children of mine"

It wasn't until the third of the 5 times I was asked, did I realize it was my brothers children they were remembering and wanting to talk about.

One woman even said "well, when are you going to get some?"

I laughed and said with a deadpan face "I am not"

ugh, I chalked it up to the awkwardness of the situation and the desire to find small talk and children are the easiest of topics for most.

My parents witnessed much of it and simply smiled at me as I swung my combat sword and responded in a composed and refined manner.

The kicker was when another survivor was telling her story (it is part of our history, so it is important to hear again and again and share with others...forgive but never forget) I did not know her story so I sat and listened...it was fascinating and detailed.

Then she called me closer and I sat beside her as she said

(I swear I am not making this up and she did not know who I was or anything about me)

"  I didn't believe in god after I was placed in the camps. It wasn't until I finally got pregnant that I knew god existed. All my life all I wanted to be was a mother, it took two years after liberation to get pregnant. Being a mother is the most important thing."

At that, I stood up, thanked her for sharing her story with me, and quietly walked into a distant bathroom and cried. It felt like a pitchfork was stuck into my chest.

I clearly did not believe in god enough....

I hope to not have to go to a funeral for a long while, I am pretty emotionally cooked.

***

I am slowly, SLOWLY, going thru images I took while away. I took close to 3000 images from the 10days I was gone. well, 8 if you count travel to and from when I really didn't take any pics en route. well not real ones, point in case:

veggie meal en route to Ireland

The gallery was busy all night for the reception, it was a very surreal experience but I am so THANKFUL to have been there to watch it all!

Stylish lady looking at my piece opening night

 Before leaving I contacted an IF support group (they have a 24hr suicide prevention hotline as part of their support services) in hopes to get their thoughts on submitting my IF show in Ireland. I received a very kind but short note back from them that said

"Dear Barreness,

Many thanks for your email. I forwarded your email to our chairperson but I know she is extremely busy so I am not sure if she has had a chance to reply.

I would be interested to find out if you have a positive response from Irish galleries - you might let us know and we could post a link on our website.

Best regards,
Wendy"

When I hand delivered my proposal on CD to a very well established gallery and gave my "elevator speech" to the director as we walked up a flight of stairs leading to her office that my work might be considered controversial as it is about my infertility.

There were two people at the top of the stairs that stopped dead in their tracks and froze.

When we made it to them at the top of the stairs and passed them, they just stared at me like I had said I was going to bomb the place. The director smiled graciously at me, allowed me to see the show they had just hung and went into her office.

As I left I thanked them again and passed the two people who were still just staring at me in silence.

I know that none of this is suppose to be easy.

I prepare and work really hard for every little thing I aim for.

I don't get anything easy, never have and never will...

These days

I am feeling tested and taunted



Tearful Tuesday

*thank you so much for your kind words*

Ok, so I needed a new reason to be crying....this time it is from laughter!

Laugh today sisters....

Selective Memory

Today I attended the funeral of a woman I considered another grandmother.

I attended the funeral of her daughter earlier this week and while driving from that funeral to the afterfood/social gathering we got a phone call that her mother had passed. 

It was beyond surreal.

Today is the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz; 67 years ago today.

For many this is a reminder of horrible history, for Helen it marks her liberation as well as the day she was laid to rest.

(the connections were not lost on any of us)

We remember how she and two siblings were all that remained of her family of 8.

Her best friend was at the funeral; the woman she befriended in the camps and then walked the death marches next to, shared stolen food with, and

who married her surviving brother and became her sister-in-law.

Helen was an amazingly strong woman, and from a very early age I was told that she was a survivor. She never spoke of the camps openly, it was always something you had to ask about. She wore shirts that hid her number, and when she caught sight of it showing was quick to cover it again. 

While visiting with her back in 1998, she was talking about how she was marched out of her home in 1942 and had never gone back.

She could never go back.

 She was convinced that her home was destroyed when the Nazi's cleared the Częstochowa Ghetto

Hearing this and loving her as much as I do, I told her I would go to Poland and look for her home.

I carried a little piece of paper in my pocket that had her street name, and the correct spelling of her town and went to Europe in her place.

I found her street, I found her home, I sent her a postcard from her town and I brought her pictures I had taken.

When seeing the images, she cried and started telling stories about living in that home.

It prompted her grandchildren to go there a few years later and see the home themselves and asks neighbors if anyone remembered their grandmother.

She loved family, had a wicked sense of humor and was egged to be even more mischievous when she was in the company of either of my grandmothers.

When I turned 21, my Nana asked me to pick 5 people to celebrate with me.

I picked my "grandmothers", 4 women that were grandmothers to me and my bestest friend.

My Nana took us all to....Chippendale's!

Aside from the awkwardness of being in a strip club with my grandmothers, it quickly faded away when I saw these woman, laughing and squealing and flirting with the strippers.

That is what I remember about the night, not the oiled men, or what I saw them do, but instead these amazing women, being girls...being girls with me.

Ever since that night, every time I saw her she would kiss me, and while hugging me say in my ear

"when are we going to see the big men again?" raising her eyebrows and smirking.

This is how I will remember her, smiling, smirking and giggling.

I miss her terribly and she is only been gone for two days.

 

Here are your big men Helen:

Blown away

The winds were strong, and cold and quieted my mind.

I am thankful for that.

My return was greeted with rough, tumbling winds, and I am spending my first week back attending funerals.
Two: a mother and daughter.

My heart is heavy with empathy and reflection

I am thankful, humbled, and inspired by you

she came and kicked my ass

Be careful what you ask for....

The Barreness came, kicked me as hard as she could in my uterus, making me puke and shit myself all at the same time, then left me bruised and sore for the last two days.

...but it appears that my period is almost over and I get on a plane tomorrow.

I will not be as swollen as I thought when I stand in the gallery overseas talking about my artwork with other artists!

Yeah

Moral:

Don't taunt mother nature

cause if you do it will bust your ass and leave ya bleedin'

*

I'll be MIA for a week or so, but I will report back with a pic or two

Promise

thank you sisterhood

xoxoxo

Waiting and waiting.....

So I counted days and by gosh I am suppose to have good old AF by now...days before the trip.

The last time we went on a big trip I got it the day before and was whacked out on pain pills the whole time...this time I want it to be different! I want to have fun and not cry the whole time!

Plus I have a great dress I would like to stand up strait in

and not be fighting the urge to hurl the whole time.

So as I wait, I search for funny pics and I found this site: Menstrual Pinups

Altered in photoshop, all have visible signs of the their periods.

Consider it an invitation to arrive AF, come on, I know you wanna be here.....