Great Lake Swimmer and Other Discoveries

Great Lake Swimmer, what a name for a musical group; for that matter wow what a musical group. I urge you to check them out, though I am a little reluctant to try describing musical style. I know what I like and that is about all I know when it comes to music, but they are so great (no pun intended) it just might be fun to try, just this once. So; if the collective creative energy of Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Arlo Guthrie and Neal Young all merged into a single entity, I believe the result would be the Great Lake Swimmers. Does that help? Does it form a murky picture of smoky basement bars and musical jam sessions that last until every story has been translated to a natural, lyrical rhythm? If the Marley reference in such close company with Dylan, Guthrie and Young sounds a little too discordant, think again. In my opinion, Marley was a brilliant lyricist who also happened to translate the life pulse of words far more effectively than other more decorated wordsmiths. At any rate, I am thrilled that I stumbled upon them while checking out free music downloads at CNET.com. Their web page is cool as well: http://www.greatlakesswimmers.com/.

Another recent discovery having nothing at all to do with music is my propensity for darkness. Obviously migraines demand darkness, what I do not understand is why I crave darkness when I do not have a headache. I also hold my head and cover my eyes even when I am headache free. I wonder if the reason is that I have spent so much time in pain lately that shielding myself has become reflexive. Whatever the reason, it is a little disconcerting to find myself cringing from the light and cowering in corners.

Even having his kids over for another dinner did not help Don’s team make it to state this year. Another season gone and no state competition, the kids were very disappointed but not nearly as disappointed as their coach. I will give him credit; Don is taking it well even though his heart was set on going this year.

I suppose I should end this late night ramble and try again to get some sleep. We went to bed early and I went out like a light only to be awoken by the uncomfortable sound of mucus rattling in my chest. I cannot stand that sound. One should never be able to hear ones self breathe. It just is not natural! I am beginning to think this dratted cold will live longer than I will Well…off I go to sweet dreams.

There is always hope.

Betty

Autumn Isn't Gold This Year

It has been ages, eons at least, since I last tried to convey my thoughts and emotions in a comprehensible fashion. The way I am feeling at the moment (all stuffy and achy) may not be the best time to attempt such a lofty feat as that, but I will give it a go.

The goings on here of late have been, in a country sort of way, rather fast paced and bordering on frantic at times. As I mentioned yesterday (at least I think I did) Don has had a cold and he passed it on to me. The poor guy was so miserable he didn’t sleep in bed for two or three nights and that is quite unlike him. Of course his responsibilities as a coach could not be set aside just because he was sick, his kids depend on him and he coached them to a conference championship. The party we had here for them was an unqualified success. They all had a great time, as did we. This weekend they will be participating in their district championship which is followed by the region championships and then, if all goes well, state. I sincerely hope for all their sakes, Don’s and the kids, that they make it to the state level.

During my occasional lucid moments, I have been thinking about My Name Is Elizabeth and I am becoming quite excited about the thought of actually putting it all down in written form. Already I have discovered a few things about her life that I had not previously known about. Another exciting thing I am looking forward to is the research. She comes from a part of Ohio rich in history and for me at least, fascinating social structure. The people in that region are to this day very class driven in their day to day lives. As soon as I get my head back on straight I intend to jump right in on the research.

One other little piece of research I have started (at the moment I do not believe it ties in with Elizabeth’s story) is the history behind one of my all time favorite songs. It is a ballad from Scotland, written in 1884 about the battle on Culloden Moor in 1746 and the escape of the young Bonnie Prince Charlie by boat to the Isle of Skye. From what little I have discovered in my brief journey concerning the Skye Boat Song, it was written by one Sir Harold Edwin Boulton and it appears he may have had a co-writer in the person of one Annie MacLeod. I am extremely excited about researching this song. It speaks to me every time I hear it I want to cry and I cannot help but wonder if I want to cry for Charlie or for countless dead Scotts who lay down their lives for a cause only they will ever fully comprehend.

On another topic, completely removed from the above, I am quite surprised to relay the fact that the autumn leaves, for the most part, have yet to change color. The woods are far and away greener than they are red or gold. I do have to say I cannot ever recall the leaves not changing and yet that would seem to be the trend. It looks as if the first heavy storm that blows through in the next week or two could just strip the trees bare without our ever having had the pleasure of viewing their fall glory. Sad, that, but there it is.

And so there you have it; a few of my scattered and weary thoughts concerning the things that are foremost in my mind.

There is always hope.

Betty

Believe It Or Not I Am Still Here

Golly, long time, no post. Sorry about that. I can only believe my lack of inspiration (coherent thought, really) is due to the medication. Since my last post, we have been to the ER again and would have been there two times, but for Reed's cold. He was feeling so miserable I just could not make myself ask him to take me. Ah well, we both survived and now I have his cold. Yuk! He is still coughing and hacking and I have such a sore throat it hurts to think about it as well as the sinus and cough thing.

I had an appointment with Dr. Stolfi (neurologist) today. He increased the Neurontin again; I am now taking 600 MG 3 times a day. That takes me back to the dose I was on before I had the bright idea to stop taking it. He also changed my migraine medication to Imitrex and Reglan. I suppose time will tell if the new drugs will help. I am a drug taking mess. High blood pressure and cholesterol, asthma and Trigeminal Neuralgia topped off with a helping of migraines, I hate taking all those pills with a true and deep passion. It seems I cannot get rid of one without substituting it with two more.

I cannot help but wonder has anyone ever died of depression due to taking pills. It seems so bleak at the moment; I tell you truly, I am very depressed about the drugs. I would very much like to go find a nice dark hole and hide myself forever, never to encounter another prescription or pill. The entire thing makes me feel so sorry for people who are really sick. I am so lucky that there is nothing life threatening the matter with me. I thank God for it and I am ashamed to be caught bemoaning my lot when there are countless people truly suffering. With that acknowledgement I can only say…There is always hope.

Betty

Another Party

This morning I was up at 5:00. I really do not care if I am up and about at that time of day, but when I wake up at 3:30 or 4:00 and cannot go back to sleep it makes me frustrated. What in the world can I do at that time of day? This morning, however, was fine. I came to the computer and played around for a while. Don got up at seven, and two hours can go pretty quickly when I am sitting at a keyboard with no distractions. I was trying to write a review for Epinions on The Seeker – The dark Is Rising, but I didn't get anywhere with that.
Don and a friend went shopping and while they were out I cleaned the porch. Oh my, it really needed a little attention. What a mess it was! All is now set to rights and I think there is nothing else to do out there before the party. Oh, I have not mentioned that here yet, have I? Well, we are having a little party for Don's athletes on Thursday, after practice. I have made enough lasagna to feed a small army; we will have salad as well and of course, M&M's. We plan to order a cake on Monday and that should finish things off I think. I am very excited about the whole thing, we always have a Christmas party for them, but this is a first as far as in seasons get together goes.
I am amazed that I am making any sense at all today. I am so drugged I can barely sit up right. I am not joking about that. As soon as I have finished this post, I am going to bed. I am having a terrible time striking the correct keys and the death chill is back with a vengeance I am terrified to eat anything solid, it would probably come right back up. I have been sticking to sugar free pudding all day. When I get up to walk I am listing badly to the left. And my legs do not want to work properly either. I have to go now.
There is always hope.
Betty

How Low Can they Go?

As you can clearly see, I am still twitching. That really is a good descriptive word for me at the moment, as I am still very wobbly and dizzy. The death chill is gone I suppose that is something. I have much to report on and I had best get at it because I have no idea how much longer I can stay awake.

I cleaned house today. Goodness, it needed it desperately. Everything is dusted and set to rights and the floors are vacuumed and mopped. I will admit that I am proud of myself. It isn’t that it is such a difficult job, it is not, it’s just that when my face hurts (and it does so terribly today) and my head is pounding it is nearly unbearable. After I finished cleaning and put away all of my bits and bobs I took a shower and got into my jammies. I am now sitting in our den admiring my work, listening to the New Age Recordings 20th Anniversary Album and writing this post.

Concerning the shower, I saw the most ghastly sight when toweling off. There are parts that are now nearer to my bellybutton than my third chin and I just refuse to believe it is possible for them to go any lower. I mean, how low can they go? Moreover, what about other parts? I have to tell you, I hope I die before my bottom cheeks make it to mid-thigh. No wonder older people have trouble walking. They are tripping over things that ought not be that low! God love’em, I’ll be joining their ranks soon enough. Probably more than you needed to know but forwarned is forarmed :) Does anyone know if women get hair in their ears?

Ah well, I suppose if one thought on it long enough, one might be able to come up with a few things worse than old age.

There is always hope.

Betty