Sunday, my beloved took me to the Fair before time to go to church at 1.00 p.m. Since it’s downtown, we were close enough to leave at 12.30 p.m and get there by train on time. Anyway, today’s blog will be a pictorial of things we saw and did. The fair is famous for different (and by that, I mean odd ) foods. We chose to eat chicken fried bacon this year, which was a ridiculous 10 or 12 coupons for the basket shown. That equals 6 or 7
dollars! Really ridiculous, but a once in a lifetime kind of thing. I know I won’t have any next year since my arteries will not be unclogged by then. So, without further adieu, I would like to introduce the Texas State Fair through my eyes.
I turned a year older this week. Because I’m the baby of the family, I’ve always celebrated my birthday for just a wee bit longer than a day- I celebrate the week. I figure it’s okay to do this because my mom didn’t know she had me for three days. Imagine how happy she must have been when she woke up after three days and found out she had given birth and didn’t even know about it. Right. Her blood pressure went up and they knocked her out. She was well and truly out, not even knowing I’d been born. That’s a fine howdy-do. Since I couldn’t do anything about the fact that my dad might have been the only one celebrating on my actual birthday, I feel the need to stretch it out a bit.
This year just happened to be the best birthday week. Tuesday was the actual day and my sister hosted our art class with crafting and a lunch. Sock monkey socks were involved as well as sweet cards and storage for crafting goods. My sister was so sweet to do that for me and I want her to know how much I love her for it. I think she thinks I finally turned out all right, but she wasn’t all that fond of me when I was born. There seemed to be some kind of cradle tipping incident- but she was caught like a rat in a trap! (oh, the drama)
Wednesday, I was blessed with my employer adding another day to my work week. I’m not being facetious. I love what I do- I take care of a 74 year old lady whom I adore and since she is close to my oldest sister’s age, I feel as if God gave me a few more years with my sister, Barbie. It’s nice. We laugh and giggle, but I digress.
Thursday, my internet got a new connection. Finally. It is better than I thought it would be and may just be the best connection we’ve had to date. But, that remains to be seen.
Friday, I attended Indievengeance Day at Cafe Brazil in Richardson, Texas. I went to see my friend Jacqueline E. Smith, author of Cemetery Tours and Between Worlds and lend support. If you have not read these books, might I suggest them to you? They are wonderful and I don’t normally do the ghosty ghost thing. The other reason I went was because I have a children’s book I’d like to publish and wanted to find out what the best way to go about it . I also have a book I want to write and it will be entitled “Tales of the Ass Farmer’s Wife.” Because I went to this event, I now have a young lady who may be interested in illustrating my book and, I hope an editor.I enjoyed meeting other independent authors and finding out different things about them and the books they have written . I’ve got to start reading faster because I want to read all of their books! I am hoping to be there next year with my books.
Today, my sons, their wives, and my grand daughter attended Funfest in Royse City and it was truly festive. I love Funfest and attend every year. There are many interesting vendors with beautiful, or wacky or wonderful things to sell. I bought a cross made from a horseshoe nail that is very beautiful, I bought a Halloween dress for my granddaughter, along with a baby doll . And of course, who could pass up corny dogs or snow cones on a hot day. Not me.
I am truly blessed having a whole week to celebrate. You can be too. Just do it.
Paula here…posting from my phone again. So far,we have no connection yet. the other day, we were to get that new internet company and their connection- well- it was no connection.
They came and sat out in the pasture trying to fix the broken connection, alas- to no avail. They did call to say we could configure it, which my son tried to do, but the broken connection is – well- still broken.
They will be sending a level 2 tech tomorrow. Why didn’t they send out a guy who knew how to fix it in the first place? “we’ll send Mort- let’s see if he knows how to fix it yet.” Sigh. Well, I hope it gets fixed tomorrow. I’m having trouble blogging on my phone and God knows it’s all about me.
I’m posting from my phone tonight waiting for my new and improved internet connection to kick in tomorrow. While living in the sticks-away from the road and not taking the paper is quite nice- there is not a decent internet connection to be had.
We’ve lived out here about 9 years now and have had Internet through many different, but not major companies. Thus, we’ve been in search of the ultimate connection. So, tomorrow, we’ll see if the one major company is the one.
It kinda reminds me of watching “LoveConnection-the only kind of connection besides a phone call one could make back in the day. Chuck Woolery, quite the looker himself, was the host. It was a kind of dating game, but after the date was chosen and the couple went out, they then came back to the show to tell about their date and whether a connection was made or not. I saw ol’ Chuck hawking catheters not long ago. Wonder if that was a good connection gone bad? sigh. Well, can’t wait to see how ours turns out.
Just as I was dozing off on the afternoon of October 9, 2007, my telephone rang. It was a man from CPS telling me he had gotten a phone call from someone at Parkland saying my son in law was there and he was non responsive. My daughter, Amanda and her husband, Sean , were on their way from Commerce, Texas to see their children before the kids went to live in California for a year or so. How this man got the phone call from the hospital, I’ll never know. I asked where my daughter was, but he had no idea. I called my husband, ran to the car and began speeding to the hospital. By the time I got to the hospital parking lot, I received a call that my daughter was there as well and we were to see the chaplain.
We met Sean’s family at the hospital and were led to a room where they told us the kids had been in a horrific accident. In an effort to avoid hitting a semi, Amanda veered to the left and lost control of the car. That’s all they could tell us for the time being. Amanda was in surgery,and Sean was already in the trauma ICU room.
Amanda came out of surgery late that night- almost into the morning. The accident was around one or two in the afternoon. The doctors told us they had put her in a medically induced coma, but they knew she had some brain damage. The truck had landed on her arm, cutting off the circulation. Because of the lack of blood to her arm, she had no pulse on that side of her body. They had to go to her right side to find the pulse. The operation was to let the blood out of the top of her arm and it was so swollen , they could not close the wound.
In the meantime, Sean was not stable and doctors were trying to stabilize his blood pressure and other vital signs, but it was to no avail. After two days, his parents had to make the tough decision to turn the life support off. I wondered if I would have to make the same decision myself. I could not imagine the anguish his parents must have gone through. Sean passed away October 11, 2007. A sad day for everyone. My daughter woke up Thanksgiving Day and the sad task fell to me to tell her of her husband’s passing.
I can’t believe seven years have already passed. Although Sean and I were never really close, towards the end of his life, we became a little closer. I miss him and wish we had had the time to become even closer.
I tell this story to say it can become too late to make amends to those you should . We never know how long any of us have. Take the time to write a note, pick up a phone and express what they mean to you. One day it may be too late. I’m glad I got that last hug when he visited us before he passed away . Rest in peace Sean. We miss you and we love you.
The other day I was nominated for the Leibster award! So, I was trying to sort that out as to how to do it all. I know I am to post the rules and everything. The thing is-I don’t know 11 blogs to nominate. So, I don’t know what to do in that case. If anyone has any idea, please , please let me know .
In the meantime, I’ve gotten so behind in my blogging university, blogging in general and everything else . I’m not sure why. I seem to have hit some kind of wall this week – a wall that seems impenetrable for my feeble little mind. I’ve kind of been thinking a little bit about a lot of things and because I have bipolar , it all gets mushed up and around and I have no real idea why I am thinking about them.
I have decided, however, to participate in NaNoWriMo this year. If you are not familiar with it, it is National Novel Writing Month. November is National Novel Writing Month and the idea is to write a 50, 000 word work of fiction in one month. So, I’ve been trying to think of storylines. If you have one you think I might go for, let me know. Pitch it to me- I’d love to hear your ideas.
So, over the weekend, I’ll be catching up on my blogging university. don’t give up on me and don’t give up on my Liebster nomination. Thank you so much Martie for nominating me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it!!
It is not news to anyone I have bipolar disorder. I do not hide it and I have mentioned it more than once here on my blog.I don’t know if many people are aware, but some folks who have bipolar and other disorders of the mental variety are or have been cutters. Just in case you don’t know, cutters cut themselves for one specific reason,which I will explain. I was a cutter for a certain amount of time and I feel qualified to speak out.
First, one may wonder why a person would cut themselves. Well, people cut to feel something.Even if it is pain,it helps. It stings and stinging is to feel something. Medication, although wonderful these days,can leave you flat- like- having no feelings. For example, I tend to become terribly depressed, but also at times, very manic. I used to stay up for days during my manic periods- sleeping only a couple of hours a night. Once medication is prescribed, the depression and the mania meld into a non mood. One is not manic, not depressed, just blah. No one likes being blah. There is a feeling of nothingness deep inside that is difficult to deal with. That is why it is so important to let your doctor know when this happens. Then, the medication can be adjusted to allow feelings to come through- not necessarily the moods, but feelings of pleasure, pain, happiness, sadness.
Sometimes, with the lack of feelings- if I was alone or I had a run-in with someone, I might cut myself. I never cut deeply, as some do, and I only cut my hands- the palms to be exact. Because I had young children at that time, I reasoned, my hands were the safest place to cut since they wouldn’t see it. But, they did.
People have different triggers that lead them to cut, but it all hinges on trying to feel something, somehow- anyhow. Their doctor needs to know. Encourage them to tell their doctor. They may or may not hospitalize them-but, more than likely, they will prescribe medicine that curbs the need to cut. Cutting can be very dangerous. Some people cut deeply and are transported to the hospital frequently to stitch up their wounds. I was not one of them.
I have not had the need to cut myself in a very long time. The doctor put me on the medication Risperdal which helped me stop. I hope this little missive gives an insight on what it is and what it means to be a cutter. The cutter is already ashamed of what they do. Gently help them . The next time they go to the doctor, offer to go with and tell the doctor or urge them to tell so they can get the help they need. Whatever you do, please don’t judge ,don ‘t nag, don’t yell. These things do not help-it only increases the need to cut.Should you know someone who cuts and you are not sure how to help, call a doctor, or a mental help line. Suicide is not what they are attempting in most cases- just a need to feel something.