Pro-Life Feminists and the March

I was wondering about this.

Veronica

I just happened to stumble upon her story, I am not sure how. It's too bad she never found relief.
From a blogpost by "Shadows and Satin":
"In 1961, Lake found a job pasting felt flowers on lingerie hangers in a small South Broadway factory and the following year, the press had a field day when she was discovered living at the Martha Washington Hotel in Manhattan, paying a rent of seven dollars a day and working as a barmaid in the hotel’s cocktail lounge.
...In June 1972, Lake was married for the fourth time, to Robert Carlton-Munro, a sea captain with the Royal Navy. But this marriage, characterized by drinking bouts and fights, ended in divorce the following year. By now, years of heavy drinking had taken a toll on Lake’s health, and during a visit to friends in Vermont in June 1973, she was hospitalized with acute hepatitis. She died there on July 7th, penniless and alone. She was 50 years old."
Sometimes, you wish you could reach out to people who fade like this, then sometimes you realize, you still can. There are so many still out there who still suffer. 

January 3rd, that's all zzzz

I'm working on a personal revision. For one, I got off Facebook. I am hoping to stay off until at least springtime, if not longer. We do have two business pages on Facebook, and I maintain the church site as well, so I will see the thing, but not for long and not in my overposting way. Even long before FB, I posted events and info and such outside my cubicle at work, on those gray fabric walls. I seem to naturally want to advertise.
Then, I got into a program of intense accountability in regards to food intake, what and how much of it. I feel very hopeful and grateful for this, as I have a lot to lose. My way of attempting this in the last two decades has resulted in weight gain, so that didn't work. I appreciate the people in this program who are very kind and dedicated to serving the next person who comes along.

I know the video is sideways.
My house is trashed, holiday trashed. The house is already small and untidy, so decorations make it so much worse. Little houses, trees, versions of Santa and fake snow are closing in on me; I don't want to be home.
My kids went back to school today. Dakota informed me that he is going to be in yet another honors math course next year. That is really cool. The stuff is fun for him, which makes me very happy. Des is just tired. She and Gene went to the movies with a group and saw Assassin's Creed at 10 pm. She will give me as little information on school as possible, assuming I know it all or should. As if.
Gene is still out driving. I had to drive as well today, since he was booked. I did four hours and got to visit my old gallery in Little Italy as well as have a sandwich next door until my clients were ready. With all the rain today, and with my choppy sleep, I haven't been getting enough rest, so I took a nap. Now making dinner.
So, not much excitement around here. I am hoping to devote one of these days to clearing the decor and cleaning up so we can see what year it is.

TurboTax 2017 TV Commercial "Kathy Bates Scary Dependents" (Official :45...

Nice ceramics blog.

http://gallagherpottery.com/archives/1250

Welcome Back, Me

I am glad you might be joining me here. It needs some work; links are not what they used to be, but thank you for visiting. More to come.

Disappointment & Hope at Christmas Time

 This is the time of the month-- a week before Christmas-- that I realize that none of the things I was hoping to do by this time will be done: No cookies, no parties, not the greatest decorating (or avoiding it altogether), no trips to the beach instead of staying in town, no Christmas letter, no cards sent out, no money, no gifts purchased, wrapped and placed under the tree that my husband just bought a few minutes ago.

The beginning of the season was hopeful: a nice Thanksgiving, complete with decorations brought out by our tiny nieces; I went to the lighting of the square downtown

(by myself) and that was fun; a nice craft night the first week, with lots of friends at church creating angel lanterns.

My sister came in town from Tennessee and we had a great time at Mom's house celebrating early. Then, last weekend, we had a lovely "instant pageant" at church on Sunday,

which was super fun, and went to a magical wedding in West Virginia and enjoyed the beautiful light displays at Ogelbay Park and the company of family.

We've received many nice cards in the mail and yesterday I was treated to a beautiful, delicious and special breakfast with four close friends.

But gosh, they say the holiday is about giving, and I just never feel I give enough when those other things are not done at all. I have a hard time feeling like I am ready or into the whole thing rather than just watching like a spectator and a "taker."I guess I am not, actually, so I need to figure out why I feel so. 
To top it off, I usually get my winter cold due to the pressure I put myself under, the exposure to all the germs, and to my awareness that there is less daylight, and more ice and slush. That cold kicked-in yesterday. I am thrilled it took this long, but wish we could have held off another week! 
I guess all this coincides with the End of the Year... That time you get to realize all the things you did not get done, not just for Christmas, but for the year. But I am not going to think about that right now. We did a lot of good and wonderful things this year. I will leave the review for another post.
The end of the year also reminds us of what a year our friends and families had, and what we went through. We started a new business, we saw a child off to college, we got through difficult things. We lost friends to death. We saw hard things and wrong things happen in the world. We keep turning to God for answers and for comfort, and He comes through. That is enough for now and for every day. We live a day at a time and sometimes for a moment at a time. 

squirrel

I am really having to combat the shame thing today. Needing to remember to breathe, need to turn things over to God because that is a good idea but also because my ulcer wants to return. I am going out for a walk and I know this will help.

Mixed up

Well, it is almost 8 pm on Sunday night. I've been to church today- good sermon and lovely music. Did not have much singing voice as I have not had much sleep lately. I did try some melatonin last night and it helped. Gene got in at 3:45 from driving.
The kids are off again tomorrow. Dakota finally finished his homework, I guess. Not sure about Des. We had a gift card from David for dinner at Subway. Spent time at the library working on my iMovie for the church. I am almost done. Des rented a bunch of stuff, including Dr. Who, Season 9. I have to spend time prepping my 30 minute lesson for tomorrow in preschool. I feel kind of tired, but suspect I am depressed.

Last night I decided, when I saw that the Calumet was in port, I wanted to go down and take pictures. Instead, I decided it would be too dark by the time I got down there, so why not go to the Christmas lighting on the square? I did that by myself. I sang to the songs I usually avoid and made the best of it on the way down, but I was actually kind of sad that I could not get anyone to go with me. I spend most of my time this way, doing things on my own instead of not doing them. It is not what I had in mind for my life, but that is where it's at. The whole thing was nice, I met a fellow artist, and left as they started on the classic rock instead of classic Christmas. How weird. Was home by 7:30 and posted them on Facebook.

Spent Friday night at Mom's watching PBS infomercials on the 50s hits.
The kids will clean the kitchen tomorrow.
Gene is hoping to come up with enough for insurance by Wednesday. He now has a cold.
Just as much as being broke, older and fuddier, having no clothes that express who I am (a mask in itself) and doing much of my life alone, my weight bothers me the most, every day, every minute. I knew depression was an issue when, on the way home from the lighting, I stopped for cat food, and bought chips and cookies for the kids. Thankfully, they do eat most of them, but it's a sign.
Then I found out that I registered for a weekend marriage thingy and forgot to reserve our room. That is $300 we do not have, so now we have no getaway weekend. Very disappointing.
There is no money for Christmas gifts, just like last year.
The cat keeps meowing outside this door. Everyone needs me for something.

I don't think my life works very well the way I'm doing it. I think I've been doing it wrong for a long time, but only realized it today. An overhaul is in order, and I'm ready.

May Day

May is a month of celebrations in our circle here. My friend's birthday starts it off (she was out of town), our anniversary is next (a day of flowers, jewelry, dinner and surprises), then another milestone anniversary a week later (he had to work), then Mother's Day.
As I get ready for work, all I can see is all the work I have here at home. That's not good-- I need to look at things differently. But the bathroom needs remodeling, the studio still needs a door, the doors we were joyfully picking out at THD were never purchased, every bed in the yard needs to be dealt with, the floors need to be washed, bills need to be paid, cars need work or replacement, and laundry never ends.
And I am supposed to put myself first-- work out, create veggie meals, get the family meals planned and purchased, take kids to all their appointments, figure out how to get them new clothes, clean rooms no one can figure out, reminds everyone to do their chores since they can't seem to remember, pray for everyone, take walks, work out, buy myself something new.
We really don't have money for most of that.
Oh, yeah, put myself first. De-stress. Find friends. Do your passion.
Um, yeah. Of course I believe in that. What will I have to give if I don't take care of myself?
Blogging is part of that. Drawing is part of that. Not coming directly home and going to the river is part of that. Ignoring all of the above and going down to my studio is part of that.
But we are so disconnected here. No one does anything with anyone except Des and Dakota reading and watching their stories and sharing. I get out with a kid here and there.
Support group for me? Hmmm.
I got one Happy Mother's Day from the oldest kid on the phone. Another from the oldest boy here, in person. No cards, no dinners, no thanks, no breakfast in bed. If we did not have the Mother's Day at church, none of them would know there was a day for that. I spend most of it with my own mom, after I did all the things that had to be done for the kids, the yard, the food, etc. for my teens, who stayed here at my house with their own mom (I am their aunt, who raises them) and their 2 baby siblings.
Mom, Dave, Bonnie and Bob all gave me a card :) It turned out to be a good day for me, but it is kind of sad.

My Life in Cleveland, Part 1

Grandma and Grandpa Dinger with my dad and sisters.

I've had the good fortune of being a dual citizen of Cleveland, having been born and raised on the West Side and raised and educated on the East. It's pretty much been a theme running behind my life like an  underground crooked river.
My parents are both West-Siders, having gone to West Tech and Rhodes. Dad was actually born in a house on the East Side, and somehow Grandma and Grandpa Dinger ended up on Dearborn Avenue off West 73rd. They had dad and his two sisters, Joy and June, and lived in a big house with a small front yard and a big porch, with sycamores out front. They were from Romania and Germany, but since they had also lived in Crystal City, Texas, they brought with them the color cobalt blue, and trimmed the porch and painted the swing and rocking chair that color. Their living room was a dark, green-blue color, and Grandma had those vases with ladies faces on them on her end tables. The house smelled like baked bread, goulash and cigar smoke all at one time. Grandma had a hard time walking, so her bed, a hospital bed, was in the living room. The kitchen was decorated with Mexican motifs and decals and had a multi-colored linoleum on the floor, I think. The lion's foot table was covered with it also and had a stainless steel trim. Grandpa built the cabinets, the porch, the addition, the garden shed and more. The back yard had small rectangular stones leading to the vegetable garden and the shed. The yard was surrounded by the flower gardens with the grass in the middle. Grandpa even rigged a water line to fill the bird bath from inside the house. Dad had a paper route and was in Boy Scouts and youth group.

Gale and Mom

Mom's parents were from Scotland. They lived in a few different houses near the greenhouses and the valley. I never got to see their houses since Grandma died two years before I was born and by the time I could remember anything, we were in a house Grandpa lived in with us and was down the street from my great aunt. Mom got to work in the greenhouses and loved to look at the lights in the valley. She is an only child and her community was the Scottish community in Cleveland. They were held together by tradition, and gathered regularly for fun, dancing, food, and of course, music. Mom was a champion Scottish dancer, and everyone in the pipe bands knew her. So many of those are gone now, and it is sad. At least there are still Scottish traditions and games and some still gather, but it is not the same. When people came over off the boat in the 20s, 30s and 40s, they stuck together to find out where the good banks, grocers, butchers, and so forth were. They were in each others' lives all the time and family was all over the place. Now we don't seem to need each other as much, though that cannot be true.
So, we were on the best street-- West 56th. It was all I needed. Mom and Dad made our back yard a great place, putting in a swing set, a sand box, a swimming pool (above ground, of course, after we grew out of the blow-up pools). At that time, it was just me and my two brothers.

Grandpa built a playhouse for us. It was a nice yard and had a white picket fence. I can still smell the taste of water from the hose in the summer. We took our dolls out on the front sidewalk, set them out and tired of them, put them away. We ran wagons full of kids. We made mud pies on the slide. We slept with the windows open, waking to the sound of grass cutters. We watched cartoons on Saturdays, the only other time we could watch them outside of Captain Penney at lunchtime. We walked to Mark Twain School, home for lunch and then back to school. We had no gym, and no library. The bookmobile came to the parking lot.

We had neighbors to play with on  almost all sides. We had no fear, no color tv, no enemies. We had Velveeta cheese sandwiches or baloney sandwiches on white bread with butter. We drank Kool-Aid and had Kool-Aid popsicles made with the Tupperware Mom bought from Aunt Joy. We had Eskimo Pies and Fudgesicles and wore Keds. We practiced piano, went to ballet, spent time examining the water flowing down the seam in the driveway. We were bathed together, singing, with Krazy Foam and Fuzzy Wuzzy soaps. We had birthday parties and at Christmas, Santa would visit at the Christmas party and get us all excited about his visit later. Halloween was apples, plastic masks, and full-sized candy bars. We stayed out late on the front lawn, with the parents in lawn chairs, visiting each other while we caught lightning bugs. That was my West-Side life, which started to lose some of its happiness only when my favorite playmate, Pammy, moved to Colorado when I was in third grade. Third grade was also the highest grade in my school, so it was also time for me to make a move. Life was changing, but little did I know how much it would change.
Copyright Nancy Dinger Aikins, 2013 All photos and article should not be reproduced without permission of the author.

Definition

Hmmm. What defines you? Is that a fair question? I am still thinking about that.
This post was inspired by clothing. Since I got really overweight, I stopped looking anything like I want to look. It seems it hardly matters what I wear, it is still not "me." I wear clothes passed on to me from people who either gained or lost weight. Hardly any of it defines me. None of it speaks "artist" or "nature" or "color" or anything I usually spend my time dealing with. The big clothes look really big. There is mostly black or white. The tops that do not hide my bulging belly look silly since my boobs make everything stick out anyhow.
It's sad. If I get an interview this week, I will be at a loss. I have not been shopping in years and do not even know where I would shop to find things I like. Worse, my 223 lb body is no fun to shop for. If I cannot represent myself, I don't know how I will get a job.
I must reverse this whole mess. I am lost in other peoples' clothing.

Where's that space?

Too many days away from the studio make me crabby, angry, down. It has taken me a long time to figure this out, but that's it. Studio time means I focus on myself and what I want to do and need to do. Things like prayer, exercise, outside time and creative time. The Other Stuff of Life gets in my way, though and I have a hard time understanding that I need to do those things as well. But I don't want to do them sometimes. Like all of us.
There are also things that may not be things I need to do, but I did sign up for them. Things like motherhood, running the art guild, attending functions. But not getting Me time in to power-up makes those things more difficult.
Today, I am just getting dressed after 10 am. That is pretty lame, but I did not sleep well and woke up with  a headache and so I got tot work in my jammies and drank a lot of coffee. Now I have to take laundry to Mom's since our washer just bit the dust. Then I work from 11:30 to 3 and go back and do laundry. The day will be gone before I know it.
Yesterday was Art Guild meeting prep, then the meeting and then off to an art benefit. Home at 10:00.
Sunday was church and then company all day.
Saturday was good=== spent time with Des at the Flea Mkt. and then we went down to Tremont. Then I spent 6 hours waiting for her to do her zombie act at the laser tag thing. Good thing I brought two books. But no exercise means I sleep terribly and it starts a bad ball rolling.
Maybe tonight? Maybe tomorrow.

Days, weeks, months, years

I waste most of my time in the morning. OR you could say that is my ME time.
I finally get to work around 3 and like to work as long as I can after that.
I get irritated if things get in my way, like cooking dinner or helping kids with homework.
In other words, I am kind of all for myself until I come to my senses and remember that I like my kids and care and want to be involved in their lives. I also like to cook. But I get messed up because I don't have a plan. Days with plans work out so much better.
I get irritated when other people don't value time, until I remember that I have days where nothing gets done.
The pressure of too many options has always been an issue for me.
Having a cubicle job has always helped me to distill what it is I had hoped to do with my time:
Travel Ohio. Get up in the morning, get in the car and drive to any number of interesting places within an hour or two, take photos, paint, blog, go home. It is silly that I get up and put off my shower and watch morning shows and eat a second breakfast when I could be sitting next to a river in an old steel town. Just writing about it makes me excited about finally doing it. I could do an excursion a week or an excursion a day-- I have the freedom. Instead, I feel obliged to clean a room, clean a floor, sort papers, clean the garage-- order my personal world instead of expanding it and responding to it. 
Another thing I imagine I will do is get exercise and cook great stuff, but that usually only happens every so often.
It's 4 pm. I went to my Mom's group this morning, which was really wonderful, since connection with women of faith is big for me. We all seemed to be really happy to be back. I joined the group that is reading the book on Perfectionism! I feel it will help me break out of my "I'll be happy when" mentality which is so natural for me. I am also a dessert-last person and a you can only do that once you've done this kind of girl. I have to realize it constantly, since it is a curse I could put on my kids. I want them to be freer than that.
My studio is my home base for any of these little trips. I need it to be my place to respond and build and create. Right now, it is a dumping ground for my supplies and for the cats. I need a door built so the cats stay out. So now, I uncover windows and tables, trash old stuff, and get busy. Gene's making dinner.

End of August

I had a fantastic birthday.
Today I have a headache coming on strong and am now going to stay in my studio for as long as possible, cranking tunes.
We have about $25 left in total.
Not much food at all.
No new school clothes, except Desi's birthday outfit and Kota's new shoes.
The house is pretty clean, except for the kids' rooms.
We finally got some good rain.
Zombie golf on Fri & Sat, Fireworks on Sunday. I hope we have tons of customers and make some moola.
Could not wake up today, so sleepy. I wish we had some Pepsi.
You don't work, you don't get paid. I am working all the time, but only so much pay.
It will be a good year.

Where Does it Come From?

Stuff is in my house. It is always showing up in piles and boxes and bags, causing me grief and prompting me to write in my blog since it such a constant. Stuff separates me from my family and the activities I enjoy and need the most. No one else seems to notice Stuff. I am told to ignore Stuff, like everyone else. I ignored the two fishing rods brought into the house in mid-June. I do not own them, nor did I bring them in, but they moved around from the kitchen to the red room to the living room and back to the kitchen until I asked about them today-- the end of August. It is my fault they are still in the house, because Stuff is My Problem-- no one else has to notice it and I was supposed to Ask Someone to take them out to the garage so they can sit in there for the next few years, since no one actually fishes. The Stuff in the garage and laundry room are all my responsibility as well, and the closets, cubby hole, bookcases, kitchen, refrigerator, studio, pantry, garden, porches and bedroom. I am tired and it is a lonely job, interviewing Stuff, to see if they are needed or wanted or useful. I would rather be doing something more interesting, but getting Stuff out of the house is necessary if we want to sit down, eat, sign papers, find anything or have something to wear. I'm not really sure what to do about it.

Shop at my Etsy Store!

This, Not That

I seem to be running on someone else's schedule, doing someone else's To Do List. I missed my shower 2 days straight because I've been on my knees cleaning the floor in the kitchen-- the kids did most of the scrubbing, but I waxed, moved out units of cupboards, appliances, carts, etc. and we cleaned under, sides, etc. really well. I broke the big picture window's second pane. Des put in screens and washed the side windows. The only thing left is the hutch.
This is not what I planned on doing this week, but since a bag of potatoes was hidden under the onions under the sink they turned to mush and we had fruit flies. We had no idea what was causing the fruit flies until this big Kitchen Cleanup happened. It is one of those things I do every year, but missed last year. It really needed it and I would not have done it yet but Gene got the kids involved and it was in motion.
The cat was catching mice in the back yard-- I could hear the squeaking. Hopefully it was shrews. In most cases I would freak out, but I am too tired. To top it off, one got in the house. It's in my room.
I am going to take a shower now. I hope the cat finds it and I can sleep well...
squeak!!!

End of Spring

It's been a lovely spring, really. Not for other states, perhaps, but in our area, very nice.
I divided up my gardening and had the kids more involved this year. Last year, we were not home much and it had to be one of the worst years for gardening anyways, with the horrid heat and lack of rain. This year, we have had refreshing, dry days with blue skies and puffy white clouds. Every few days we get a good rain, so the weeds have been easy to pull. My  hands are sore and in the morning, it's hard to bend my fingers.
I am not saying we have had things planted in neat little rows since May. I've only planted a dozen sunflower seeds so far. We have about 5 plants 6 inches high. Two of their heads have been eaten off already. Most of my hostas are looking ragged, since this is the first year we've had the deer right up to the house as well as lounging in the back. I like this year in the yard because I've not been so alone and because I am allowing myself to enjoy it and FINISH it. I just wish we had money for more soil and lots of mulch.
Today I thought about how nice it is to be at ground-level with the plants and to hear the sounds of birds, leaves moving, the sound of pulling or clipping plants. The colors and smells are so nice.
I will probably plant all my seeds. Some are from this year, some from other years. I don't care- what do I  have to lose? I have no idea if the deer like pumpkins and squash, spinach, and the rest, but I will find out.