Sunday, September 30, 2012

little girl wishes

I wish I may I wish I might give away my wish tonight

I hope you wish for love and family and more days like today

I hope you wish for bare feet summers and hotdogs and lightning bugs and a jar to put them in

I hope you wish for strawberry ice cream and sticky stuff on a stick ( cotton candy)

I hope you wish for mud puddles and frogs

I hope you wish for purple my little ponies and zoo zoo pets and a real pony of your own

I hope you wish for puppies and kittens

I hope you wish for hugs and kisses and a million more wishes

I will keep my hopes and wishes for you to myself and pray that your guardian angel never strays from you little one

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Where is home ?

    Where is home ? Is it the place you where born in ? Is it where you grew up and went to school at ? Is home where our parents live now? Is it somewhere different than where we were raised ? Is home where we live now in the present or is it where you go when no one else will take you in.

    What makes it a home once you have decided where home is? Is it the house you live in ? Or is home the people that live in that place called home? Homes can be various things from sprawling mansions to silver bullet mobile homes and everything in between. Ideally the people that live there make the dwelling the home.

   I have been restless and lonely and feeling like I am missing something lately. I finally figured it out the other day. I am homesick. That puts me in a spot. I don't know where home is. I am not missing my family. I know where they are and how they are and that is not it. I know where I want to go but everytime I have went there in the last 10 yrs or so I have only left feeling more lonely than ever.

   After 5 years of calling where I now live Johns place and of John telling me " Its our place." I guess I have a home.  Fredrick W. Robertson said  " Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence. It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defense, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and without any dread of ridicule. "

   If Robertsons' quote is true I must really finally have a place to call home and a person in it to make it a home with me.

Thursday, September 27, 2012


Over breakfast this morning John and I has a misunderstanding. I said something and he either wasn't paying attention to or he didn't hear me correctly. So he proceeds with his long winded side of the conversation. I'm lost. I have no clue why he is explaining this to me. I don't even know what he is talking about or why. I guess I must have been giving him the " I am clueless " look .

John and I speak different languages. He talks non -stop and with passion. His voice gets louder as he goes along and his arms take on a life of their own. I talk in my way, which either is a long build up to what I am getting to or very brief concise statements.

A few summers ago I kept talking about wanting to go to Presque Isle. Time wore on and I started to mention it more often. Summer starts to wind down and I keep bringing up wanting to go to Presque Isle before it gets cold out. Eventually it gets cold out and I chalk it off as a lost cause for that year.

John calls me at work one cold rainy day and tells me to wait at work and he will pick me up. He is there by the car waiting for me when I clock out for the day. I get in and ask where we are headed. I am told to just put the seat back and take a nap. I hate to ride in the passenger seat, not just with John and taking a nap is out of the question. He reaches behind the seat and hands me his baseball cap and tells me to put it on and cover my eyes.

It is pouring rain and starting to get dark as we get on the ramp to the interstate. He asks " Do you trust me ? " In my head I don't know. It sounds like a loaded question from my end . " I guess ." Is my response. I finally put the seat back after an hour of watching the wipers going back and forth. Triv is on the radio, ranting about something I could care less about so I retreat to somewhere else.

I can hear John telling me to wake up. I don't want to. The car has gotten warm and steamy and it seems like I have only just gotten to sleep. I open my eyes to see lots of neon lights and cars. A whole parking lot of cars. Rain and neon and car headlights are a bit too much for my half asleep brain to take in . John tells me " I'll let you out at the doors and you wait there while I park the car." I can't believe what I am seeing. " Where are we ? " I ask . Johns response was " Didn't you say you wanted to go to Presque Isle ."

What I meant was Presque Isle state park outside of Erie Pa, not Presque Isle casino. After a really good laugh we drove to the park to find it gated off for the winter.

  Tell me about your greatest misunderstanding.

Monday, September 24, 2012


I love my horses. I really do. A few weeks ago when I went out to feed them something was out of place. For being horses these guys are fairly neat and definatly creatures of habit. Everybody has a potty place. I opened up the gate and slid through a really large out of place puddle. I didnt think much of it at that time besides thinking someone is mad at me.

I went up the stairs and dropped down a bale of hay. I came down stairs and picked it up and went sliding again. I still did not think too much of it. I opened up the bale and and tossed the flecks where they needed to go. I came back later in the day to clean up the stalls and there are really large slippery puddles all over. I clean up these puddles and put down clean shavings. The horses are out in the field and don't seem too interested in me so I put down the evening hay and go back to the house.

I go out the next morning to these puddles again. I have no idea why someone is using this as a potty place. I try to step over it this time but my foot goes out from under me and I am now sitting in this stuff. Really slick, shiny goo. I have no clue as to what I am sitting in except that it is not horse pee. As I am trying to get up Miss Nosey turns around with a startled Neigh and her face and chest have ropes of thick slimey goo dripping down. Of course when I fell the can of grain went everywhere. In most cases that would be no big deal except I have two goats that will eat anything smaller than them . Which is still ok except Miss Nosey has never learned to share and in her haste to run the goats off she she rears up and hits her head on the ceiling and spins around and slips and falls also.

About this time my heart is racing and the only thought going through my head is get out of the way before I get really hurt. Right behind that is Rabies. I get out of the barn to regain my own bearing and let the horses settle down." Rabies, she cant have rabies" I tell myself. " I gave them shots right?" For the life of me I cannot remember. I go to the barn and get out my horse kit. There are 5 empty vials and the manufacture date is for this year. All is good with that part. So maybe she has gotten poisoned. I never ever store my grain near any chemicals but maybe the grain is bad from the store. I put my face in the bag and take in a long deep sniff. It smells ok. But maybe there is something wrong with it anyway so I decide to taste it. Now this is really smart. First it does not taste like what it smells like. Second what was I thinking of by putting it in my mouth if it was poisoned? That wasn't good enough so I go back to the barn thinking that maybe the clorox hadn't dissipated enough out of the water. So I sniff it. It smells like water in a rubber maid tank. Just to be safe I taste it also and it tastes like horse water. I have no clue, but I have had enough at this point. She is acting like herself and I kind of forgot about it.

That night as I bring them in the big guy wipes his face against my chest and covers me in slime. He rubs again and stuff is flowing out of his mouth . In comes Miss Nosey swinging her head from side to side with drool flying everywhere . " Houston , we have a problem here " I say to myself. I truly have no clue. Nothing. blank. I start over a mental checklist of what bills have been paid and I wonder if I am going to have to call the vet out. I love my vet and I know he loves me because everytime he comes out I put another one of his kids thru school.

After the initial panic subsided I get on the computer to ry and find out what is going on. Slobbers. What a fitting name. Commonly caused by a fungus on clover. Internet information says that it should clear up in a few days . I decide to close them off of one field for a few days to dry them up. After 10 days of wading thru horse spit this plan is not working. It may possibly be worse but I can't tell because two are drooling gallons a day. I move them back to the other field in the day time and put them in the barn at night. After a week of this back and forth with the fields I am getting tired and frustrated. I search a bit farther and find out that the only way to clear this up is to remove the clover from the fields. Sounds about right on track. We finally get the right stuff to grow only to have to plow it under. A week after the plow under , everthing is dry

Sunday, September 23, 2012


It is Saturday at my house which means it is clean up day. I have been walking around putting things to right. It has been a relatively quiet week this week and things are not looking too bad. I have discovered a baseball bat behind the couch. This missing remote control has located on a window sill.
I am home alone today and the house is subdued. The television is off and the radio is turned down low. There is some random road traffic as cars go by. The predominate sound is the neighbors children playing in the yard. I am going from room to room and am off in my zone. Some days now my mind wanders away from me.
Today my mind has sent me back to when my oldest child was born. I remember all of the excitement. What sticks out the most is going to a major retailer and bringing home the crib. A new baby needs a bed right? At the time we were living in an apartment on the third floor. It was a rather nice apartment as far as apartments go. It was light and airy, the rooms were large and there was plenty of closet space.
We were having a baby and all was well in life. The only thing we needed was a crib, a car seat, a couple of bottles ,some diapers and really small clothes. Babies are little people right? A baby is supposed to expand your family and double your love to your spouse We knew children would be expensive, but we figured that would be later, like about 16 yrs later when it was time to get them a car or 18 years later when it was time to send them off to college. No where and at no time did anyone mention to us that that we had to have stuff for the baby. And by stuff, they meant stuff, as in if it was in the baby department, the baby needed it. And that meant that our nice roomy, airy 3rd floor apartment would never be the same. How can a 9 pound human being that will only grow about 15 pounds in 1 year need so much stuff. The crib and car chair are reasonable things. But where is it written that it " needs" a changing table, play pen, rocking horse, strollers, portable playpen. Someone brought us cases of diaper for every stage of life ( hidden in one case I swear was sanitary napkins and a bag of depends). We received portable highchairs, regular highchairs, booster seats and a child sized lounge chair. All of these gifts are wonderful items. Most of these items came from people that have very neat, extremely tidy homes that would no more have an out of place item than a stray speck of dust.
The child arrived with out much fuss or drama. But one thing I did notice after loading all of the portable items down the steps and into our car and out again at what ever our destination was, was that the child never ever got to use these items. The baby went from lap to lap to lap. The best portable item would have been a rocking chair.
That 1st born child is now mostly grown and I look in its bedroom only to see a small neat desk and laying in the middle of the bed a palm sized music device

John and I


This song says a lot today. Please listen and have a great day !


Wednesday, September 19, 2012

What a pheo feels like

Life with a pheo and or a para is quite a journey. I hope and wish that no-one ever has to live with one in their body . How do you know if your sick? I've had a headache for over 30 yrs. Sometimes they are blinding, puke til you feel like your skull is going to burst, sit naked on the shower floor, with the water as hot as you can get it and pray to die headaches. Other days the pain feels like an old fashioned too small swimming cap is compressing my brain. Some days it feels as if the two halves of my brain have been separated. Sometimes if the headache goes away the next day I am afraid to move because I feel fragile, like an almost cracked egg and I don't want to move for fear a aggravating it again. Bright lights and sunshine bring on headaches, weather changes, loud noises, certain foods, certain noises.
Nothing beats heat radiating off of you from your belly button to the top of your head. Oh by the way from your navel down you are cold. I need to pee every 20 minutes. Not really but my bladder says gotta go, but its on /off switch doesn't work, but you go and try anyway cause if you don't in a half an hour your going to feel like there is barbed wire in your bladder and that little twinkle is not going anywhere until those muscles relax which may take away cause your bladder feels like you are holding a gallon and the next rest area is 75 miles away.
Anxiety and adrenaline, you bet. I hate being around people, not that I hate you, its just that some things you may say cause such an intense physical emotion response that I am afraid that if you push the wrong buttons, I may just tear you head off. Some people just don't know when to shut up and walk away and feel the need to push their point. I'm like the cartoon guy that has the red needle going up as he is getting angry. First my heart starts pounding and my body starts to go really tense. I can feel my torso tightening and my neck and shoulders are as hard as rocks and it climbs up my neck and across the top of my head. I cant control these physical feelings. Im going to worry about every little thing. I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling like a ticking time bomb. Sleep, who needs it, who wants to stay up and keep me company for the 3-4 days that I only sleep soundly for 2-3 hours. In these 3-4 days you better just keep your distance cause I'm gonna be in a mood. I'm tired, my body hurts, every single joint, from my ankles up. My neck is on fire and all of those joints are filled with broken glass. I'm sad. I hate me for being a bitch and I hate you cause you dont understand what its like with this stranger in my body. My brain never shuts up because I feel guilty about how I let you make me feel. or I feel guilty wondering about how my responses made you feel. I'm really not nuts, I just have a pheo.
I don't work like a dog to impress you. I have to be physically busy as a constructive way to put this adrenaline to work. If I don't work it off here and end up dead tired my body will twitch and jump all night long if I'm lucky enough to sleep.
Everyone is familiar with the flight or fight response. Think about how you felt the last time it happened to you . My body goes thru this countless times a day be it with a rude person in line in front of me or almost asleep in the chair. I've even woken up from a deep sleep with all of these physical responses surging thru my body.
It feels like a heart attack, pain, tightness, shooters down my left arm, left sided jaw pain. My heart is beating on a good day at 110 beats per minute, but it feels about the size of a grapefruit and it is jumping and twisting and then it stops, it beats so hard and so fast that once it resumes a normal pattern it feels like it quit beating altogether.
My vision is questionable. Some days I can see, other days not too well and that varies through out the day. I love the sun, but the bothers my eyes so I wear sun glasses all yr long.


What does it feels like to know you are going to die. We all know that we are born, we live our lives and then eventually we are all going to die. We all hope to live healthy, happy, productive lives. We live with our parents, our roommates, we find jobs and grown up friends. We get significant others, we have children or pets. We do what we can to find our places in the world. We settle into our comfort zones . And in the backs of ours minds we envision ourselves getting old, visions of motor homes and cruises, of our children graduating and getting married . We see our older selves teaching grandkids to ride bikes and teaching them how to fish and making christmas cookies.
I feel like the rug has been yanked out from under me . I don't want to die . My death was supposed to happen years from now. At home, in my bed, in my sleep. Softly, quietly in my sleep. It feels like someone has kicked you in the belly and knocked you to the ground. It knocks your breath out of you. I feel lost at times. I wander thru my home in a daze some days and as I look out the windows into my fields I wonder to myself if this is the last fall I will ever see?I am not supposed to die yet. I'm only in my 40s. I have a lot of unfinished things to take care of. I should not have to be making plans for end of life care. I have tons of questions. Questions that I want to ask these goofy doctors. Questions that are hard questions that they don't want to answer. How long does it take? What will it feel like? Will it hurt? Will I be coherent?They don't know the answers and pass me off to the nurses to answer those tough questions since they deal with death on a daily basis.
I wonder if the drs ever feel any guilt about dropping the ball and missing it? Do you ever wonder what your indifference has done to my family. What if I were your wife/mother/sister/daughter and another dr did the same to your family.
I am beyond angry. I told you I was sick. You blew me off and your indifference has cost me my life.
I am incredibly sad. I know all of the things that I will not be here for. I know the void that will be left in some peoples lives. In the grand scheme of things one persons life isn't much but in some peoples lives that one life is a big thing.
I don't think I want a funeral. I don't want people seeing my dead body laying there and talking about what a good job the undertaker did. Come see me now and talk to me. Tell me about what's going on in your life, I'm bored and lonely.
Most of the people I know and love have forgotten about me. Sickness makes you show your true colors. Kind of funny the people that I have been there for don't call anymore. I know cancer is a scary thing, How do you think I feel. But most of you know cancer is not contagious and it has not affect my brain or my feelings. Cancer is not even something we have to talk about, Hell I prefer it that way. I would love a diversion from it. Lets talk old times, beer, sex, work and gossip. I don't care lets talk about anything other than me being sick.
I worry about John . I wonder how his life will change when I am no longer here.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Old Red
Going to Grandpas' house was always the high point of my childhood. Weekends, summers and holidays were all spent with Grandpa. I didn't care if it was Easter or Christmas or that hateful city school was over, what I cared about was Grandpa.
 One Sunday we were planning on going " down home" to Grandpas. Usually that meant getting up and leaving early so our family could be there by 9 or 10. This particular Sunday our car had problems and we were running late. By the time that we arrived the rest of my family consisting of various aunts and uncles and cousins were already there. After walking into the house filled with various smells of something good cooking. After a few brief hugs I was told to go out and play until dinner time. So out the door I went. There are cousins to chase, hiding holes in the barn where there may be new kittens to name I was a happy kid for awhile.
 After a while we are all called to go wash up and get ready eat. We sit and hold hands and give thanks for what the good Lord and the land has provided for us. Fried chicken, gravy, biscuits that melt in your mouth, real mashed potatoes, fresh picked green beans with bits of home cured ham. Homemade love on the table with plenty for everyone . After dinner there is peach cobbler that is still warm from the oven. Grandma sure can cook.
 Everyone heads outside to escape the heat of the house and smoke their stinky pipes and talk of all the things you dont talk about at the table. All of us kids go back to doing what ever we were doing before dinner. As the day winds down and everyone goes home I start to become aware of an unusual quietness. Something is missing. Something is not right. As daylight turns to dusk I realize what I'm missing. Old Red. Old Red isn't crowing. That is the reason for the quiet. I find Grandpa in his swing facing the road, dozing, pipe in his hand and the bill of his hat down over his eyes.
" Grandpa ?" I ask.
 " Humm..Polecat." he replies
 " Grandpa, Where is Old Red/"
 He sits up and straightens his hat and re-lights his pipe and pats the space beside him motioning for me to come and sit.
 " Old Red decided to cross the road. Didn't quite go fast enough and a car hit him." Grandpa tells me.
" Grandpa, we just had chicken for dinner." I say to him.
 " That was a pretty fine dinner your Granma cooked today, wasn't it ? " he asks me.
 " Yes sir, I guess it was."

Soon there after that Grandpa passed away in that swing with his favorite hat on and his pipe beside him.
 As September turned into October the hens quit laying eggs and one by one entered the freezer.

Lori in her own words

ear from Lori herself in her own words..... Or as she is fond of saying.. "straight from the horses mouth"

Below is the same post originally posted 9/7/2012

Below is a post by Lori submitted on one of the support groups we are a part of. She has requested that everyone that reads this please help raise awareness of NET cancer types (Neoedocrine tumors). When you have a moment, please send an email to to have their logo change to something ZEBRA for November 10. If this happens, each time Google's homepage is open it will spread awareness for 24hrs. And when it's clicked on it will bring up NET search results!

Lori in her own words

If you are sentimental or an animal lover you probably dont want to read this. I hate having this disease. I know, we all do but some of us are lucky . Having a pheo is never lucky but in the life of this illness sometimes a few of us are lucky with only one or we get them later in life. Im a not so lucky one. I dont know what I did or who I pissed of at some point to have been dealt the life that I have had. In a nut shell from day 1 or close to it I was given a few seriously bad cards. But I have always done the best I can with what Ive got. I wasnt blessed in the looks or brains dept. nor in the luck or health dept either. Ive had one constant in my life. Horses.

My grandfather gave me my 1st when I was 7 and everyone was pretty sure I was going to die. At 14, I bought a horse and he is still with me 30+ yrs later, alot gray, a bit thin and some days I wonder if he may out live me.

Horses have been a constant in my life. A good horse is like a lab or a golden, they know you better than you know yourself sometimes. They have been with me through the ugly teenage yrs (my own and when my girls were hateful teenagers) My horses have been there for me when Mark died. They are who you tell your secretes to. Where you go when you mad or sad or just confused. Somedays they are my only reason to get out of bed and once upon a really bad time they saved me when I was seriously thinking of killing myself. When I ran away from a past life I made sure I had a back up plan for them if I couldnt get them here where Im at today. Ive checked myself out of the hospital because Im homesick for my horses.

John is the love of my life and we got together late in life. He knew I had horses and that my life pretty much revolved around them..WE knew that life together was not always going to be easy. Horses tend to be time and money consuming, but so are children. We have no kids together but would gladly trade a horse for a child, no questions asked. We both believe in hard work and dedication to get what you strive for. Together our goal was what has always defined who I am and what is my passion. I am the country girl. Im backward and naive. He is all computers and gadgets. He is techo geeko, Iam a misplaced cowboy. We bought a place in the country really cheap,the house is quirky (odd really) but it had a barn and enough land to comfortably house my horses. Ive been extremely blessed to have them in my life. No Im not rich and we have given up a lot of things that other people just take for granted. We dont have cable or dish, no landline phone,no vacations, no fancy car ( we own a kia rio ) I shop cheap, watch ads and bogo. We live with in our means.Fournatly housing is dirt cheap here and the costs of living are low.

Together as time and resources have allowed we have cut down trees, plowed dirt, re-routed water, put in water, made stalls, fences ect. The work is done by us together.We are not done yet but the dream is getting closer, or was. The drought this summer has caused a dramatic price increase in hay which is the primary food for horses. Last yr really good hay could be purchased for less than $ 4. This year $ 10. Farmers from Texas and Az are driving up and paying these prices. I went on Craigslist today and people are literally giving their horses away. Sadly due to local economy half of those horse will starve this winter and the other half will be sold for slaughter. The humane shelters are over filled and that is still no guarantee that the horse will have a forever home.

I am thinking of having my horses put down. It sounds harsh but the reality of is just that I really dont think these prices are going to come down and part of being a responsible pet owner is doing what is right for the animal. I am not a vegan but am well aware of how meat gets from field to plate and I just dont want that for them.Horse owner ship is a privilege and not for anyone. It takes commitment and sacrifice. It means getting hay in 90 degree weather and breaking ice out of water buckets at negatives 10, its walking in circles for miles cause one ate too many apples and has a belly ache or staying in the stall in a lawn chair all nite cause the old one is shivering and running a fever. I think to own the same horse for over 30 yrs means I must be doing something right. Now Im a bit blurry on right and I cant see my life with out them and I dont know what life will be like.

The night great grandpa died and the clock

Great Grandpa Bill was my Grandfathers dad. He lived with my grandparents . I don't know how old he was just that all of my really early memories have great grandpa Bill in them . I can clearly see his haunting blue gray eyes and his large gnarled hands and his faded blue over-alls with all those many pockets. I don't remember his voice or if he smoked but he always had a candy for me in one of those many pockets. I can see him after he was house bound calling me over to his rocking chair and asking if I still like horses. I see me nodding yes and him handing me a homemade horse on a stick.
What I remember most is the night great grandpa died .I was about 5 and had never experienced death first hand. You see great grandpa slept in the bedroom of the living room and when I stayed there I got to sleep on the living room floor. It was so soothing to be able to hear his steady gentle snores every night.
Great grandpa died at home in his bed. The curtain was closed and calls were made over the party line and soon people started to arrive. I was finally told just what had happened, that Great grandpa had died and he way going to be buried in the ground and would be with grandma Mary. Grandpa wash washed and changed and laid out in his finest, just like the worlds oldest groom on his wedding day. On the table in the living room. Where I sleep. I was told to touch him, he is dead,he is sleeping for eternity. He is just cold and soon and soon will be placed in a wooden box and placed in the ground forever. Finally it is time to go back to sleep. I was allowed to sleep in bed with Grandma. I can't sleep. I'm scared, I'm terrified.
" Grandpa Bill IS NOT DEAD !" I scream.
" Yes he is."
" No he is not."
I am coaxed in to putting my hand into the lapels of his jacket to feel his chest. I can still hear him breathing. Inhale in exhale out, in and out, in and out. Slight wheeze in, slight wheeze out. Soft,gentle, rhythmic snores.
" I can hear him, he is not dead. You can't bury him. I won't let you!" I scream at my grandparents.
Finally Grandpa comes and sits where I am at and listens very hard. He hears it too. He looks up at the wall at my grandmothers pendulum clock. He stands up and takes down from the wall and all is quiet.