Buttons by the Jar

I went to Goodwill today for the first time in awhile and found this wonderful jar of vintage buttons. For $3.49. Needless to say, I snapped it up.

I'm always surprised that such a thing would end up at a Goodwill store, garage sale or other such place. Button jars were once a common thing. Every housewife would have had a jar or box where she cut the buttons off any garment that was past being patched to be used for a lost button or to sew on a new dress she had made. Someone who was loved cut these off, handling each one, putting aside for their family's future in this small but significant way. Waste not, want not.

In our modern, throw-away culture, we don't bother with this sort of thing. We wear our clothes until we're tired of them and then pass them on while they still have some good use in them. That, of course, is a good thing, too. And, most of us don't make too many of our own clothes anymore, so we don't have a lot of use for a button jar.

But, for me, it's a wonderful bit of history. It's not my history, but someone's history. Those buttons represent favorite coats and dresses, a husband's shirt, a grandma's sweater, or a little girl's sundress. They've withstood multiple fastenings, maybe through multiple garments, and are still ready to be pressed into service with a quick stitch or two.

The jar will largely be decoration, but I add a vintage button here and there to aprons I make, or art pieces, or a bag, or who knows what next. So, some of them may well find their way into yet another life beyond the jar. But, I'm already certain there are some I will never be able to part with. I will only be able to use them on things for myself so when they're worn out I can cut the button off yet again.

I love button collections almost as much as I love finding someone's recipe box filled with their family favorites. I haven't run across one of those in awhile. Of course, I haven't run across a button jar in awhile either. I think the last time was when we were at Susan's farm. I looked back to find that blog and apparently March is my time to find button jars. But, unfortunately, I seem to be on a once-every-two-years schedule. It would be wonderful to increase that average.

This was one of the first things I spotted today. It was sitting in a cart, ready to be put out on the shelf, and I snapped it up before it ever got onto the shelf. I love the colors, shapes and textures represented. When I opened the jar tonight to dip my fingers in and feel the buttons, I realized there was this string right on top - just an unexpected prize.



I'm afraid these sorts of things will eventually completely disappear. I think I'm only able to find them now because I live where there are still ladies who quilt and do other sorts of handwork. It's something I truly treasure about living in the midwest.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Risk Homeostatis and Travel

Risk Homeostatis is a theory put forth by Ontario psychology professor Gerald J.S. Wilde. He has written two whole books about the theory so forgive my paragraph long explanation of it, and read "Target Risk" and "Target Risk 2" to get a full understanding.

The basic idea is that we all have a comfortable level of risk at which we feel "normal." And if one part of our life becomes less risky, we will compensate for that by doing more risky things. There is much debate about this idea in highway saftey circles. There are some studies that show drivers are less careful around bicyclists who wear helmets than around those who don't. There are some studies that show drivers who have anti-lock brakes drive more foolishly than those who do not have them because they feel they'll be protected. There are also other people refuting these things. And it would be incredibly stupid to not wear a helmet and not take advantage of safety equipment on cars because this is a theory, and the differences are not significant enough to warrant giving up safety meaures.

That said, I refer you to the idiot in the four wheel drive truck who was next to you at a stop light during the last ice storm and peeled out as if the road were completely clear because he assumed the four wheel drive would protect him. I once saw such a fool smash the back end of his shiny four wheel drive right into a light pole as he fishtailed into it after such a manuver. Fortunately, nothing was hurt except his truck, and probably his pride.

I hope heaven will forgive me for taking the tiniest bit of satisfaction out of that. It wasn't that I wanted to see his pretty red truck smashed. But I wanted him to get the idea that - hey, there's ICE on the freaking road. It's slick. Just because you have four wheels driving on ice instead of two doesn't mean ice has suddenly become less slick. You idiot. Okay, that last editorial comment was uncalled for, but, really, how stupid do you have to be to not catch on that ice is slick. And that light pole could have been my car, or a pedestrian or the nursery inside a house.

Okay, so, as you've probably figured out, I think there's something to the idea of risk homeostatis, but I like to apply it to more interesting things than traffic. Not that that's not a good, practical idea and all, but practicality isn't exactly always my strong suit.

I've been thinking about it in terms of "adventure." A few years ago researchers said they had discovered the "adventure gene," meaning that some of us are born wanting/needing more adventure in our lives than others. I think there's something to that, too. I know in an average group of folks, when conversation turns to topics that include some "uncertainty" in them - like travel - I'm generally at what most people consider the far edge of risk taking. I'm not. At all. But, I live in a place where people don't meet a lot of adventure travelers - the true kind of adventure travelers.

What's important to understand is that I don't think I take any unnecessary risks, but for many people just telling them you've gone to Nicaragua is out of their comfort zone. Never mind we were staying in something more closely resembling a resort than a hotel and that we were driven around all day by a taxi driver from one place to another. The mere idea that a person would go somewhere where officials wander the streets with machine guns in plain view is out of some people's comfort zones. I don't think of that as especially adventurous since I've witnessed that in multiple parts of the world. Even going somewhere where you don't speak the language and have to hire your own taxi driver is overwhelming to some folks. I don't always believe the graffiti proclaiming "Muerte" (death) to one politician or another is an indication anyone wants to harm me. I'm not going to miss the opportunity to climb up a live volcano, even if there's the tiniest chance - and I do mean tiny tiny tiny - that it could erupt and kill me while I'm there. It didn't.

Of course, I could be caught up in a coup in some place I want to go, but that's why you always keep your passport, a credit card and some cash on your physical person at all times - just in case you need to exit a country quickly. It's why we have money belts and other such devices. And, let me state for the record, that nothing like that has ever happened anywhere I've ever been and I can't imagine it would. Nonetheless, when I'm travelling I bear those things in mind. People get stuck on old ideas - Nicaragua is all about the Sandanistas, Columbia is all about cocaine, etc. etc. etc. People - the eighties are over - even if shoulder pads do come back in style.

I get very lax about that sort of thing in Europe although one of the scariest crowd situations I've ever been in was at the Bastille in Paris on an election night. But, it was very interesting to be sitting in our favorite pizza place a half block away and watching news reports from there while we were hearing it in real time through the open door, occasionally stepping out to witness the real life event unfolding. Again, nothing bad happened. It was just "tense" for awhile.

And, I think it's all a matter of degrees. There are travellers who hitch hike the Trans-Siberian Highway. It makes bribing someone to let you climb a pyramid on a military base in Egypt seem very, very, very tame. I am in the latter category, not the former. I don't have that in me. I'm not that adventurous. I don't want that much risk and discomfort in my life.

The Trans-Siberian Highway is 11,000 kilometers long. For those of us more used to miles, that translates to a little over 6,835 miles. I read it is highway like we think of in places, and a gravel road full of holes in others. No thank you. I'm not made of the kind of strong stuff that hitchhikes at all, much less for nearly 7,000 miles in snow and ice. I'd like to take the train ride. Maybe. I need a bit more info. That might be like being imprisoned in a moving car for a very long time. Or it could be really cool. I'll get back to you on that one.

Well, I've digressed, as I so often do.

The idea of risk homeostatis, from an adventurous travelers view, can be thought of as, "if your life gets too safe (dull), you find a way to introduce risk into it through travel. When you get to the level of risk where you're comfortable, you back off. So, maybe you need a Europe level of risk. Maybe you need an Iraq level of risk." I feel certain I will never seek a level of risk where I want to hitchhike nearly 7,000 miles. Other people may never seek a level where they want to negotiate for transportation with someone in a language they don't speak, which I get an odd sort of thrill out of. Others may never want to go beyond reading a good adventure book.

All of those are perfectly wonderful. The trick is to recognize your own level and embrace it. I've seen many, many people on the road in various places that simply should not travel. They spend the entire time:
1. wishing they were home in their own beds (if your bed is that amazing you should make sure you're in it each night - do not willingly depart from it)
2. asking why museum tags aren't in English (because we're in a country where English is not the native tongue, although many places provide English as a courtesy and please view it that way - a HUGE courtesy)
3. complaining - about everything - food, hotel, traffic, people, prices, landscape, service, subway, attractions, cleanliness of the streets/people/buildings/transportation, maps, busses, signage and the local dress/religion/way of life (didn't your mama ever tell you if you can't say something nice to keep your mouth shut? well, I'm telling you now)
4. wanting to be home (PLEASE... go home... better yet, don't leave home... but if you've made the mistake and left home when you shouldn't have, please immediately take a taxi /train/bus/rickshaw/private car/subway/or other conveyance to the nearest airport and rectify the situation. They will take you home. To your bed. You will be happy. We will be glad to not be listening to your incessant complaining. It's a win-win for everyone. Lets just all be grateful.)

I'm quite fascinated by the idea that we all have a level of risk at which we feel comfortable - a set point, if you will - and that we seek to keep that in balance through whatever means.

I've noticed that in the last few years I've had less of a desire for travel. I still feel it - intensely - but I haven't acted on it because of a variety of things happening in my life. But I believe we all do basically what we want to do and if the desire had been overwhelming I would have found a way to act on it. In the last few years my life has been very topsy turvy for a number of reasons out of my control. Has my risk level been satisfied in other ways? Is that why I haven't acted on travel? My life has felt much less "safe" since 2001 and I've only left the country twice since then and both trips were pretty easy to do and very safe - not a lot of risk involved.

What this tells me is that I need to make my daily life much more "safe" feeling so the desire to travel can be satified. Now, how to do that? Isn't that always the question.

Flow

Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi coined the term "flow" to refer to those experiences we've all had where you lose track of time when you're doing something you enjoy. For me that can happen when I'm writing or painting. I look up and realize it has been two and a half hours since the last time I noticed what time it was.

It's never a task we don't like but it can be something we're not particularly skilled at. Csikszentmihalyi said in the book, "It is not the skills we actually have that determine how we feel, but the ones we think we have." Isn't that interesting when you think about it? The "optimal experience" he's talking about has nothing to do with our skill level, only with what we believe it to be. I've always been a a believer in just trying new things. I like to do lots of things, but I don't care if I do them all really well.

For example, I wanted to knit. So, I got a book and learned how to cast on and do basic stitches. I bought some yarn. I made some scaves. I'm happy. By comparison, my friend Andrea is a knitter extraordinaire. She likes things to be as perfect as she can get them. Me, not so much. I'm content to just make it passable and enjoy the experience. But, of course, we're having different experiences, and that's cool. I'll bet she's in the flow when she's knitting. And, of course, her projects look much better than mine. But, I'm content with my tiny little bit of knowledge. Now, on other things, I might want to do them as perfectly as I can. But, I don't want to sacrifice the experience of trying something by thinking it has to be perfect or there's no point. Flow can happen to a knitter like me, if I think my skills are good enough. And it can happen to a knitter like Andrea, whose skills are great.

There's a long list of things that have to be "just right" for us to achieve flow. We have to be engaged in a task that's challenging enough to keep us interested, but not so difficult we're stymied. We need uninterrupted time and we need to see some progress. These are just some of the main components.

You often see referneces to flow from the self-help gurus, and some are pretty sloppy about giving correct attribution. But, if you want to get it straight from the horse's mouth, read the book, "Flow, The Psychology of the Optimal Experience."

I was thinking today that it has been a long time since I've been in the flow of things to the degree I lost track of time - that I was having that optimal experience. I haven't been able to be in my art studio in a long time now since it's upstairs, and I didn't have any time to paint at the end of last year either. So, there's one of my main sources of flow cut off.

I can get into the flow in writing but I really need that uninterrupted time for that and I haven't had much of that the last few months. That is something I desperately need to correct. I need to find a stretch of time when I can just sit down and write and write and write. It seems there is always something interferring with that these days and I need to address that.

Thing about when the last time was you were having an "optimal experience." Has it been awhile? I think it has for most people. And that's a shame. Shouldn't we be doing this on a regular basis? It seems we should. That is only logical. But, it seems to be hard for us to achieve flow.

Hutchinson Artist Don Fuller at Sandzen Gallery

Hutchinson Artist Don Fullmer has an exhibit at the Birger Sandzen Gallery in Lindsborg, Kansas, from January through March of this year. The Sandzen Gallery has hosted numerous well known artists, so Don is in good company. See a video of some of the pieces.



Don opens his Main Street studio during art walks sometimes. It's well worth a visit to see his process.

Venus

Greg took this photo Friday night as we were driving back to Joplin. It shows the moon and Venus in close proximity. It was frigid cold and Greg stood outside at the Beaumont rest stop for quite a while getting this photo. It was so windy it kept blowing the tripod and making things fuzzy. But, as usual, he persevered and got a great photo.

Greg is far more dedicated than I am when it comes to such things. I'm much more of the "roll down the window and hope for the best" variety, while he will suffer for his art. Not suprisingly, he gets art while I get snapshots.

I've been taking photographs for almost 20 years now with a "real" camera - first with an AE1 and now digital. (Although, frankly, I've lost quality going to digital, as has almost everyone else - but it's so darned convenient.) Greg has taught me a lot, and I've learned some things over the years, but sometimes you just have to suffer for it a bit more than I'm willing to do. Greg also just sees angles and juxtapositions that never occur to me. You'd think some of that would have rubbed off on me over the years but, alas, 'tis not the case.
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Snow!

Greg took this photo of me today, walking the trail at Wildcat Glades in Joplin. We were here last weekend and it was cold but dry. Today it has snowed almost all day. And it has been a beautiful snow - big, wet, fluffy flakes coming down at a fast pace. I love snow.

However, today was brrrrrr cold. We went over to the Redings Mill Bridge again to see it in the snow, too.



I have been trying to walk some everyday because "people who are ambulatory after surgery are far less likely to develop blood clots." Nothing like that as a little incentive to be "ambulatory."



It was beautiful today, although so cold it was hard to stay out very long, even being bundled up. I did snap this photo off the bridge, looking down to where snow had gathered at the edge of the water.



The walk at Wildcat Glades offered some beautiful vistas. Greg's mom has declared all of them as "cold" and I can't disagree. It was cold.









 





After a snowy walk, it was time for cozy time with the kitty. Mia snapped this photo. As you can see, it's not my best look, but as we all know, it's far more important how the cat looks.

Rocky Mountain News Couldn't Weather Rocky Economy

It's a sad day for those who appreciate journalism. The Rocky Mountain News has published its last edition.

For the last decade or so we've been hearing about newspapers folding. It has been easy to write that off as "bad management" and "being unwilling to move with the times" and other such things. Unfortunately, that trend has now reached the newspapers that are the bastions of all that is right about journalism. The Los Angeles Times, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Boston Sun and the Chicago Tribune are just some of the major papers in bankruptcy. The reason we recognize the names of those papers is not just because they're from big cities, it's because they have done stellar work over the years.

Read the story about the Rocky Mountain News. (Online, of course.)

Obviously, the times have changed. We get much of our news online these days. And I'm one of those people. I haven't subscribed to a newspaper for decades. Yet, if something is happening in town that I want to know about I go online to the newspaper's website. Where would I go if that weren't there?

I realize I'm part of the problem, but so far no one has created a way for me to be part of the solution. If they charged me a few pennies every time I wanted to read a story I'd be happy to pay it. But you're going to have to make the search function really good so I'm getting what I really want. And I'm not going to pay a buck for one story, when a subscription only costs $10 for a month - it's not like music that has repeat value. It's that whole fairness issue of how much is any one story worth compared to how much is in the paper as a whole. It then becomes an issue of how many things are you covering that people want to read about. Charge me more for huge, massive pieces - maybe as I read, so I know if it's worth continuing to pay for.

But I don't want a subscription. I don't want the physical paper in my space. I don't want to create that much environmental waste. I'm not at all interested in huge parts of what the newspaper prints, and I'm unwilling to pay for that. A prime example is that there is an entire section devoted to sports. I don't care about sports. Automatically I'm tossing 1/2 to 1/3 of a product I've just bought. What kind of sense does that make? None. You wouldn't accept it with any other product. I think this is why niche publications are not suffering while general products are.

Make it simple - you know how many words are in any given edition because computers will tell us that now. If a newspaper costs fifty cents, charge me a fraction of that based on how many words I want to read. If the newspaper really costs far more than that (which it does in reality) then come up with what it really costs and start charging people a fair and accurate amount. But don't punish me for reading online by wanting me pay a greater percentage of the costs.

And... hey... free advice for newspapers who are trying to do the charging online thing. Those of us who read online do not want a subscription. If we did we'd get the paper delivered. That is making it easy for you, not for us. You really, honestly, have to think differently. You've just moved your antiquated idea from the real world to the online world. It's not working in the real world - consider why that is instead of just importing it into another format. You need a new idea. I'm giving you one above. I'm not saying it's the best one, but it's one.

The ugly truth that newspapers haven't wanted people to know for a very long time is that subscriptions don't support the paper - they just provide a way to count readers. The money comes from advertisers. And, the really ugly truth is that newspapers put down the ads they have and fill in the rest of the space with news. But, much of that advertising money isn't coming in now. It's going to other things - like online sources.

A free press is essential to a free country. I'm sure of that. "Free press" doesn't necessarily mean newspapers of course, but other forms of the press are going to have to step up their game to fill in for newspapers. I've been a journalist for radio stations, TV stations and newspapers - they are different animals with different approaches. That's not to say radio and TV stations are not doing "real" journalism, but the way stories are covered is different in each medium because each has different limitations.

I'm a huge fan of the internet, but I'm careful about where I get my "news" from. Any bozo can write anything they want on the internet. I know. I'm one of those bozos doing that every day. Of course, what I'm writing is opinion and it's obvious because of the format. And when I do venture into something resembling "news" I follow standard journalistic practices. But, I'm not sure everyone is as selective in what they consider "truth." Of course, people read "The Enquirer," too. So, there you go.

We're making a new world. We just don't know what it looks like yet.

However, I feel certain that at some point in my lifetime the pendulum will swing back and it will be cool to subscribe to an ink on paper newspaper again.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Your Mama was Right...

Remember when your Mama told you that if you couldn't say something nice about someone to just say nothing at all. Well, once again, mothers everywhere have been proven right.

There's this thing called Spontaneous Trait Transference, which is a fancy way of saying that when you say Aunt Bertha is a lazy bum, on some level people are thinking that YOU are the lazy bum. It doesn't matter if Bertha is, indeed, sponging off the relatives for a living and has never worked a day in her life while you are an overachiever. The idea is still planted that you must be more than a little familiar with the concept of being a lazy bum if you are spouting off that way.

I know. I'm the bearer of bad news. Sorry. But in light of this information I had to write about something other than what I had originally considered. I'm sure you understand.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Spring is Here

I don't care what the calendar says, spring has arrived. Today my first daffodils opened. Actually, it happened this evening. I went to the post office around 7:30 p.m. and they were still buds. I did some running around and when I came home at 11:30 there were three that were open.

As always, I couldn't resist picking one to bring in to put in one of my vases that sit on the shelf above my kitchen sink. I'm infatuated with these little vases, almost all of which have pink on them. But tonight I chose to use one of the clear ones I picked up recently.



I love daffodils. They spell spring to me like nothing else. And they are the precursors to one of my very, very, very favorite flowers - hyacinths. I love, love, love, love hyacinths - the purple ones are my favorites.

My mother had some planted when I was a little girl and she would always pick them and put them in a fruit jar in the middle of the table. The smell was so sweet and would permeate the whole house. I can close my eyes and be right back there, elbows propped on that table, looking at those flowers and drinking in that smell. That table is now in my dining room and I have my own purple hyacinths planted, but it's never the same of course.

My mom also grew peonies, roses, pinks and other things in her flower bed. At one time or another almost all of them found their way into a vase in the middle of the table. Thinking back, I realize she was seeking a kind of beauty in her life that we all need. And what better way to capture a bit of it than with a bouquet of flowers? You don't need to be rich to have some beauty in your life.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

To Twitter or Not To Twitter

Okay, I'm a twitter fan. I've been doing it for awhile now. If you don't know what twitter is, it's a "mini-blog" site, where you say what you're doing in 140 characters or less. It's social networking at its most elemental. It's facebook status stripped bare. In fact, you can push your tweets (what you call twitter updates) to your facebook account as status updates. Go get yourself a free account at www.twitter.com and/or www.facebook.com. You'll find me both places under my own name.

Well, apparently I'm not the only one who sends tweets regularly. And, to tell you the truth, lately I haven't been on much. But, last night during Obama's speech numerous members of congress were sending tweets about their reactions to the speech. I'm just not sure that's the appropriate place for tweets. I mean, really, if you're in the same room with the president, and he's speaking, even if you have met the president before and it's kind of old hat to you, shouldn't you be paying close attention. To, you know, what the president is saying?

Now, this brings up an interesting point - yes, I can twitter AND pay attention at the same time. However, I'm guessing I might be a bit more tech-savvy than some of those who were supposedly sending messages. I believe it may well be staffers who are doing a lot of that. In fact, one rep got caught by that very thing.

The Washington Post has a great article about all the twittering from the floor last night. Check it out.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Quote of the Day

“It is by studying little things that we attain the great art of having as little misery, and as much happiness as possible.”
                                                        Samuel Johnson
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

To Do

Greg and I went to Carey Park for a walk late today. I had intended to go in the afternoon for a few minutes, but it was after five by the time we went. I'm trying to walk every day for a bit to stay active and avoid blood clots. They're a danger for six weeks after surgery - today is four weeks - but generally only for people who are not ambulatory. So, I'm making sure I'm ambulatory.

I'm starting to feel like getting quite a bit done each day, which is nice. I have a to-do list for tomorrow that I think I can get all the way through. In addition to MHA things, I have some personal projects I want to get finished. Always more to do than I have time and energy for it seems.

I'm hoping I sleep well tonight. I haven't the last two nights and am starting to really need a good night's sleep. Maybe tonight is the magic night.



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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

A Charmed Life

Four weeks ago tonight I was preparing to have surgery the next morning. I was optimistic all would be well, but also aware I might not come home. Or, that I might come home facing chemo, maybe losing my hair, maybe having years of treatment stretching out in front of me with no end in sight, maybe looking at the beginning of the end.

When I was first told I had a tumor, Kim sent me a Bible verse that had been a comfort to her during her cancer treatment. It was, "I am the Lord that healeth thee." from Exodus 15:26. That night I was looking that up online and ran across another verse that I loved from Psalm 50:15, "And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me." I had that in my mind as they put me under in the operating room.

A couple of people have asked me about faith/religion/spirituality since all of this happened. I rarely discuss my beliefs, because I view it as very personal. I also doubt anyone shares my views so I don't try to explain them because it makes people uncomfortable. Suffice it to say I believe God is involved in my daily life and I believe in the power of prayer. I also believe energy never dissipates and that includes the life energy in each of us. I believe the way we think affects the way we live. I believe in miracles. I believe there is a reason for everything. I believe each of us is the teacher and the student. I believe we keep getting the lessons until we handle them well regardless of our role.

Faith has been part of my life since I was a teenager, I just choose to keep this part of my life largely private. When this happened, I knew if I wrote about it on the blog there would be times when my belief system would be evident because it was a traumatic event. And I knew there would be questions. This is my clumsy attempt to answer those questions, while keeping my beliefs as private as possible.

I find comfort in Bible verses, as well as quotes from great thinkers throughout history and of different faiths. I am not, nor do I ever want to be seen as, a model of any sort of faith practice. There are three things I do every day. I pray. I meditate. I write. Those three things keep me grounded.

I feel as if I have received a miracle of healing. All the medical people in my world now tell me they thought it was cancer and were surprised to learn it was benign. Thank goodness they didn't tell me that in advance.

The night before surgery neither Greg nor I slept much at all. He had lain down on the couch and I sat in a chair talking to him for a long time. Finally I went upstairs to bed and dozed off and on for a couple of hours, but never really went to sleep. I couldn't help but think that it could be the last night I ever spent in my home.

Greg said the hospital bed set up in the dining room was a real marker for him. He knew that we would come home and that would either be a place of just recovery or it would be a place where I was recovering enough to start chemo or it would be a place that was the beginning of the end that would lead to him sitting in a room somewhere increasing my morphine until I passed. When we came home and it was just a temporary place to recuperate it was a relief.

I'm so incredibly grateful and so relieved. I was very optimistic, but I was also realistic. The vast majority of the time, surgery goes very smoothly, but things can also go wrong and one has to be prepared for that.

A friend called the other day just to visit and she didn't know about the surgery. When I was given the news I just didn't have the energy to call people. I wrote on the blog and left it up to fate of who read it. I just couldn't tell the story over and over and keep myself positive and I needed to be positive. With a good dose of realism. But positive.

She asked what I did in the nearly three weeks from the time I found out about the tumor until I had surgery. I said, "I got my affairs in order." She laughed and said, "of course you did. That's what you would do." I assumed that's what everyone would do given the situation, but she laughed and told me I was always practical. I suppose I am to some degree, but I didn't know what else to do. And that was something I could do that was proactive. And there was very little I could do in those days that had any effect on the diagnosis.

It's hard to believe it has been four weeks. In some ways it seems like it was a year ago and in others it seems like it was just last week. I remain incredibly grateful, knowing that I got the news hundreds - maybe thousands - of people are praying for every day.

Physically, I'm doing very well. Mentally and emotionally, I'm still adjusting. I think it's part of the reason I can't sleep these days, even with the pain pills. Every day still feels like I'm walking on a tight rope. I'm trying to juggle all these different feelings and emotions, which demand processing, while dealing with the world that allows no time for such introspection. As is so often the case, everyone understands the physical, but it's difficult for them to understand how delicate but demanding the rest of it is.

I remember a few months before my brother Jim died I was sitting on his front porch with him and he remarked his death was not far off. He then went on to say, "No one wants to talk about it, but it's coming. And it's not going to be long." I said, "Well, I can talk about it." And we did. And I'm so glad I had that time with him. It was poignant and bittersweet and an honor to be included in his life in that way. For the first time I understood what a gift it was to glimpse this part of life.

When I was facing my own mortality I quickly saw what he meant. I've written here many times over the last five years about my desire to live fully, which I summed up during this time by saying, "I'm not afraid to die, but I'm very afraid to not live." However, when people are thinking - even though they may not be saying it - that you really could die, they are very uncomfortable with that conversation.

From my perspective, nothing had changed regarding my feelings on the matter. Ultimately, we're all dying. It's just that sometimes we are faced with a situation where we have a sense it could be more eminent than we had thought the day before. As I've written here before, I've always known death is very close and it's very easy to cross over. But I quickly learned what Jim had said was true. No one wants to have that conversation - not even in the abstract - not even when you have reason to believe this isn't your time.

I am so fortunate to be looking at normalcy, being able to go back to living life not worrying about death. I'm sure in time this will all fade into the background and I'll think no more about it than I did six months ago or six years ago. When I came out of recovery and saw Greg I asked him if the tumor was gone. He said "yes, and it was not cancer," although we didn't know exactly what it was then. Later when he repeated that information I mumbled to him, "charmed life." I often say I lead a charmed life in response to any number of pleasant experiences. A charmed life, indeed, is what I've been given, and I want to remain in a grateful frame of mind for such blessings.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Caution Tape In Place

When I went to my office building today I was surprised to see caution tape still surrounding the steps going into the entrance where the elevator is. There was a hostage situation there Thursday at a lawyer's office. I missed the whole thing because I was in Wichita at a doctor's appointment.



I'm not sure what all transpired, but tear gas was used and there are still broken windows visible in two places.

My office is upstairs and in the front of the building, so as far away from this area as possible. There's no smell lingering upstairs, but you can smell something faint downstairs. I'm not sure what it is, as I don't have any experience with tear gas.

The doors downstairs, into the law office and the back of the quilt store, are all taped off. I guess to seal out the smell.



It was quiet today. There's a beauty salon upstairs but they're closed on Monday.

I'm glad I missed all the excitement on Thursday. I just don't need any extra stress in my life.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Blue

I read something today that I've been thinking about since. It was an offhand comment in a book. The author was talking about how different colors have different effects and mentioned that blue is very calming. I knew this already. But, what the author mentioned that shocked me is that even blind children are calmed when in a blue room. Now, why would that be? Is it because others are calmer and conveying that in some way? I don't know, but I find it very interesting. I'd like to find out more about the study because I think it's very curious.

Greg and I got home tonight about 10 from a visit to his mom in Joplin. It was wonderful to be there - very relaxing. I'm tired after the trip. It's time for bed for me, for sure.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Wildcat Glades Visit in Joplin

This afternoon Greg and I hiked at The Wildcat Glades Conservation & Audubon Center in Wildcat Park in Joplin. I did a little bit of the trail never the center, but it was a little rough and I decided I didn't need to be walking on anything that wasn't paved. So, I looked at the map and found an area that was paved for wheelchair accessability and walked there while Greg did the more rugged areas. But, I snapped this photo of a leaf in water on my little walk, as well as the one below of grass near the same place.



It was a pretty walk with some massive rocks.





This park includes one of the last remaining chert glades. Their website says it's a unique habitat.





Greg walked the trail to a place called Redings Mill, where there is an old bridge, and a new bridge.



And there are rapids...





Before our visit there Greg, his mom and I went to Sandstone Gardens for lunch, which was yummy.



Tonight all of us and LV went over to Baxter Springs to Cafe on the Route. And, in between, there was much kitty play, of course. It has been a nice, relaxing Saturday.

Kitty

This is Greg's mom's kitty, affectionately known as Weaselhead, asleep on my lap in the morning light. She was tuckered out from kitty play. It's hard work amusing a whole group of adults.

We're enjoying a relaxing weekend full of kitty play and Miss Joy visiting. I needed to be away for a little bit. It feels amazingly good to sleep in a real bed, which I haven't done since Jan. 26. Only hospital beds for me since then at Via Christi and then at home.

The surgeon told me Thursday that I can do steps as long as I do them one at a time, so I'll get to start sleeping in my own bed upstairs soon. I just don't want to do anything to prolong my healing time. He said six weeks - not a minute sooner - for full healing. But the motion he said he wanted me to avoid was side to side. And he admonished me to remember, "It's only been three weeks." It will be four on Tuesday, so I'm getting closer to the magic six week mark.

While here I've been reading "The Geography of Bliss" that Trish gave me before surgery. I had taken it to the hospital but couldn't focus much there so I read the first of the Twilight series then. This is a great book. He travels to various places around the world, seeking information about where the people are happiest. It's incredibly well written. The first page hooks you immediately.

Well, I'm off for more kitty play and other important activities. Aren't Saturdays wonderful?

I Missed the Excitement. Thank Goodness.

I had a follow up with my surgeon in Wichita today and got a good report. He said everything seems to be going well. I am to make an appointment for four weeks from now and if I'm feeling fabulous by then to cancel it. He spoke like he didn't expect to see me again.

While I was on the way to Wichita, there was much excitement at my office building. My office is on the second floor and on the first floor is an attorney's office. Apparently early this afternoon a gentleman came into the office there and took five people hostage. He released them pretty quickly from what I understand, but an hours long standoff ensued, ending when law enforcement used tear gas.

Fortunately, it's the weekend tomorrow and I'm guessing any residual smell will be gone by Monday. I have no experience with tear gas but I'm guessing a smell is involved.

I'm not sorry I missed the excitement. I don't think the stress of a hostage situation is something I need to add into my life at the moment.

This is a prime example of you just never know what to expect any day when you wake up.

Crocus

I noticed a few days ago that crocus were popping their little heads up in my front flower bed. Unfortunately, because I had never taken the time to clean it out, you couldn't see them.

Yesterday while I was at the doctor's office in Wichita, Sharon and crew came to the house and cleaned out my front flowerbed and put down mulch and just generally tidied it all up. It's such a huge difference. It's amazing what people who know what they're doing can accomplish. I appreciate it so much.

I've had a hard day today. My heart was beating weird - it started in the middle of the night and lasted until early afternoon. I'm not sure it was in a-fib or not, but it was certainly unpleasant. Thankfully, it went back to normal this afternoon. Ironic that this happened just hours after seeing the cardiologist.

I have a follow up with the surgeon Thursday. I have a list of questions for him. Hopefully all will go well.

I am tired tonight. I didn't get much good sleep last night. I think I'll take a pain pill tonight and see if I can go to sleep and stay asleep for an extended period of time. That would be wonderful. I need some sleep - good, solid sleep. That's next on my agenda.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Questions to Ask Grown Ups

Barbara sent this to me and I thought it worthy of sharing here. It's a list of questions to help kids talk to grown ups. I hunted around online to find the person to credit it to, but was unsuccessful. If this is your list, please let me know and I'll give you credit. Very insightful.

I was thinking about how I would answer some of these myself, and also how interesting it would be to hear the answers from some of my long gone relatives.

 1. Tell me what you believe to be the greatest invention so far in your lifetime.

 2. Tell me what scared you when you were little.

 3. Tell me the best way to spend Sundays

 4. Tell me about someone you always had fun with.

 5. Tell me the wish you have for your children

 6. Tell me about something you broke.

 7. Tell me a vivid memory you have of a sister or brother or best friend.

 8. Tell me about your favorite book or author.

 9. Tell me one place you would still like to visit.

 10. Tell me one day you wish you could do over.

 11. Tell me the best way to determine a person's charactar.

 12. Tell me what your parents did for a living

 13. Tell me what you wish someone would invent and why.

 14. Tell me something you wished you had learned earlier in life.

 15. Tell me what it is like to be married.

 16. Tell me a secret of lasting love.

 17. Tell me a tragedy you have known and survived.

 18. Tell me one possession you always dreamed of having.

 19. Tell me if you could have one luxury every single week for the rest of your life, what would it be?

 20. Tell me a story about your mom.

 21. Tell me something you got away with when you were little.

 22. Tell me what makes you feel special when you wear it.

 23. Tell me someone who helped make your life better.

 24. Tell me the most memorable school day you can recall

 25. Tell me about your favorite relative growing up

 26. Tell me what, if anything, you would trade all your possessions for.

 27. Tell me one famous and one not famous person that you would like to change places with for a day or two.

 28. Tell me about a moment of certainty in your life.

 29. Tell me someone who inspired you while you were growing up.

 30. Tell me about the teacher that made the biggest difference in your life.

 31. Tell me about the nicest things people ever did for you

 32. Tell me a dream you remember.

 33. Tell me a story about when you were a teenager.

 34. Tell me if the weather ever scared you.

 35. Tell me about your very first best friend.

 36. Tell me about God

 37. Tell me about your first job.

 38. Tell me bout the first house you remember living in.

 39. Tell me about the town or towns you lived in growing up.

 40. Tell me about your rings.

 41. Tell me what things were like for your parents.

 42. Tell me about your first love.

 43. Tell me how to stay strong when the going gets tough.

 44. Tell me about your first car

 45. Tell me the first time you felt grown up.

 46. Tell me a story about a pet you had.

 47. Tell me about a hero in your family.

 48. Tell me about someone you love with all your heart.

 49. Tell m e how you felt the day I was born

 50. Tell me about your favorite toy when you were little.

 51. Tell me someone who you felt always had your best interest in mind.

 52. Tell me one of your first happy memories.

 53. tell me one thing you like to do that makes you feel comforted.

 54. Tell me what you loved to do when you were little.

 55. Tell me about a poem, song, or letter that you wrote.

 56. Tell me a regret that you have.

 57. Tell me a wish you have for your country.

 58. Tell me about a moment you thought was magnificent.

 59. Tell me one rule you think is silly.

 60. Tell me about your absolute favorite childhood possession.

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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Good News

I snapped this photo of the sunset tonight as we were coming home from Wichita where I had a follow up with the cardiologist. I have been dreading this appointment, but I got good news. This morning when I took my blood pressure it was the first time since surgery that my heart has been beating regular, with no pauses.

The doctor today told me not to worry about pauses, as long as I felt okay when it was happening. I had read pauses and skipped beats were considered something that didn't require treatment and I guess that's his assessment too.

I have a slow pulse rate, as did my mom, and both my brothers. This seems to me to indicate it's genetic. Normally, they consider a slow pulse rate a good thing. But when I was in the hospital, everyone kept questioning it. I kept saying it was always low. They kept ignoring me. Finally, today, he asked about the readings of 48 for pulse rate and how I felt when it was like that. I assured him I felt perfectly normal when my heart rate is in the 40s and 50s. When it's in the 70s it feels fast to me. Finally, he listened and said, "well, as long as you feel normal, that's fine. You might have to have a pacemaker later, when you get older." Like a person who had surgery three weeks ago today wants to hear anything about surgery. But, at least it was surgery in the nebulous "later."

Overall it went well and I don't have to dread it anymore, which is nice. I have a follow up with the surgeon on Thursday. Hopefully that will go smoothly too. I anticipate he will release me then.

I'm too tired to write about much else tonight. It's beddy bye time for me. I am exhausted after today. It's the first time I've had this long of a stretch out and about since surgery. Time to rest.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Dinner at Linda's and Great Conversation

Linda invited the Chicks and friends over for dinner tonight and it was so much fun. We never have an opportunity to engage in casual conversation like we did tonight and it was really interesting.

This is a small group of very intelligent women and the topics were wide ranging. We had some thought provoking conversation and some big laughs.

Of course, one of the main topics of conversation was Rebecca Ryan's speech at the chamber dinner last week. I think everyone around the table was there that night and it was great to hear people's observations. I am always curious to hear what these women think. They are great thinkers and give me a different viewpoint.



In many different circumstances I am often the odd person out, with completely different views, but in this group people don't necessarily take that to be a negative thing, which is nice.

We had a lovely time. Linda had gone the extra mile with everything and it was a great night.



I was struck again tonight that I wish I knew how to fit in better. This isn't about tonight specifically, but just in general. I don't seem to know how to think the "right" way. Things that are obvious to other people make no sense to me and vice versa.

This isn't anything new. I've never been able to fit into group situations very well because once I say what I think about almost any situation, people  get uncomfortable, because I am rarely in sync with the majority. I try to ask questions to understand others viewpoints, but that seems to just make people defensive. I don't know how to explain my viewpoints because they're often "intuitive" to me. My brain just doesn't seem to come to the same conclusions other people's do.

We were talking tonight about how much we identify with where we live, as in what town or county or state you're from. I think of myself as "living in the midwest" because I view the boundaries of states and counties and towns as largely arbitrary. I was the only one in the group for whom this was true.

Boundaries for such things were once determined by how long it took to ride a horse from one place to another. To me that has no bearing on our world today and therefore should be reexamined. Why do we still want to live with these archaic divisions when we could be living as a group that is all working together for the good of everyone instead of competing with each other for limited resources in this arbitrary system?

I understand the "normal" way to think of this is that it's a system that has worked for a long time and is a huge economic factor because government is a big employer in many places. But in Patsy-world we could just rethink the whole situation and the money that's being put into communities through government could be coming in a different way, bringing with it different services or products. I don't understand why we don't want to expand our worlds.

Of course, I have absolutely NO idea how to affect that change. And maybe that's the problem - others are just more accepting of the fact that change is very complex. I always believe in my la-la-happy-world that everyone will see the wisdom of rethinking something and jump on board. Of course, this is not true. But, I just can't let go of it because to do so means to accept that possibility is lacking. And I want to live in a world full of possibility. 

I have a whole long list of things that make no sense to me - from athletics being tied to schools to health insurance being tied to employment. But, as usual, I seem to be the only one who sees these things as illogical and therefore worthy of rethinking.

Sometimes I wish I could just think through something and come to the conclusion everyone else comes to. I might not necessarily want to accept that as the gospel truth, but maybe I would at least understand the world around me then. Because, frankly, the world makes little to no sense to me most of the time. I am out here, floundering around, trying to not make a fool of myself, with no understanding whatsoever of what "the norm" is. But at least there is always something interesting to think about.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Quivira National Wildlife Refuge

This was sunset at Quiviria National Wildlife Refuge Sunday afternoon. I love going down there and it's only about a thirty minute drive from Hutchinson, where I live. In these days when eco-tourism is of such great interest, I wish we promoted this facility more. It's an amazing place to be, but it's hard to express to people how cool it is without them actually going.

I think you also just have to be a person who appreciates nature in all its forms. Quivira is a huge bird watching area. The birds were settled down by the time I took this photo, but you can see them dotting the sky above the horizon. I don't think I've ever been to Quivira when the sunset wasn't gorgeous.



We saw three otters yesterday. At least we think they were otters. This one and another swimming, and then one on land as we were leaving.

I loved the ripples this guy was making in the placid waters. It seems appropriate for a calm afternoon that he would have the place to himself as he glided through the water.



All of these photos were taken on the last mile and a half of the Wildlife Drive at Quivira. I am enchanted with this photo of the three birds silhouetted on the grasses. It was rare to see only a few of them at a time.



Something like 95% of migratory birds in the US move through Quivira at some point during the year. I'm not a bird watcher, but I appreciate the diversity that offers. In the autumn even Whooping Cranes become temporary residents.



I don't know my birds, but I'm guessing these are a very common variety considering how plentiful they are. I love this photo where you can see the blur of some flying while others are settling in for the night.



Earlier, they were swarming every which way. The sky was just black at times.



I don't know that I've ever shot so many photos directly into the sun before, but I wanted to capture that moment. The beginning of sunset, when twilight is coming, is my favorite time of day when I'm in nature. I love that beautiful pastel you only see at sunset.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

A day with friends at Quivira

Greg, Mia and I drove down to Quivira National Wildlife Refuge this afternoon. It was a gorgeous day - sunny, although the wind was chilly - and we were there until sunset.

Quivira has a huge bird population passing through at any given time, and they were swarming at sunset. I took a ton of photos and will be sharing more, but love this one of the three birds silhouetted in the marsh grass, while the sky is speckled with hundreds of others.

This is the longest amount of time I've spent in a car since surgery and I had no problems, I'm happy to say. Greg drove all the way so all I had to do was take photos.

After Quivira we went to Wichita for dinner together before Mia headed on to Joplin. I'm feeling much perkier the last couple of days. About a week ago I had a couple of days of just needing to sleep almost all day and night. Then I seemed to take a leap in healing and just feel much more normal since then.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Glenn Miller Orchestra

The Glenn Miller Orchestra played in Hutchinson tonight. It was part of the Fox series, although it was held at Memorial Hall. Andrea called a couple of days ago and asked if I wanted to go with her to use Martha's tickets. Although I don't really know the music, I said "yes" because I try to always be open to fun.

Indeed, it was fun.

Most of the people attending were, like us, there to hear the music. But, a good portion of people took advantage of the dance floor that was set up. Unfortunately, no photos were allowed. It's a pity, because there was some great dancing going on. I did sneak some photos of my friends.

Andrea and I were talking about how we saw some of these same people at the chamber dinner last week and would never have imagined they could dance like they do. It was fun to watch people. Most of them were older, but there were a few younger couples, too. I'm amazed at the moves people had - very impressive.



Mia is out for Valentine's Day and she and Greg decided at the last minute to go to see the Glenn Miller Orchestra, too. At one point she leaned over and said, "If you squint a little you can imagine it's 1942." And it was true. It was cool to see people enjoying music from their youth.

I noticed as various songs were announced or started, the audience would "ooh" in unison. I chuckled thinking about it being 30 years from now and wondered if people my age would be having that reaction when things like  "Do you think I'm Sexy" by Rod Stewart or "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" by Meatloaf was announced. Those were the only two songs I could think of from my senior year in high school, which I assume is the correct time frame to elicit that reaction. Unfortunately, neither of those has the same ring as "Stardust." Maybe we'll be too embarrassed to react that way. I can only hope.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Seeing Ourselves in Another Life

I've discovered that being largely housebound can be dangerous for the pocketbook. Unfortunately, the internet makes it easy to shop, without setting foot outside the house.

I am not prone to excessive spending, thank goodness. I have limited myself to some clothes I actually needed and some Avon that I will use. Tonight a package arrived that included a couple of more pair of thermals. And, just in time, because it's cold here tonight.

But I can see the danger if one were looking at a prolonged period of being alone with the net and a credit card for amusement.

I'm watching Diane Sawyer's "Hidden America" and it's bringing back so many memories of covering stories in Eastern Kentucky. When I lived in Lexington and worked for a TV station there we would occasionally go into Eastern Kentucky for stories.

Before that job I knew some fellow college students who were from the region, and I didn't understand their lives, although they were not all that different from my own in many ways. I could have been much kinder than I was. Don't we all feel that way at some point? That we could have done better. Maybe it's only me, but I can pinpoint dozens of times in my life when I had the opportunity to be kinder, gentler, more gracious, and failed.

While I had that job I spent a lot of time at the home of a man who had "escaped" a few miles toward the west and would only occasionally talk about his past. He was the best friend of my boyfriend and we would spend weekends together at his home. Forest was forever kind and generous with what he had and you could tell he had worked hard to get it. He never took it for granted, and I understood why. I still take nothing for granted and I bet he doesn't either.

When we would be in the region, I could easily spot the similarities to where I had grown up in Western Kentucky. There were places, homes, and families, that were the same as what we saw in Eastern Kentucky. But it wasn't as pervasive and there wasn't coal mining to fuel the ongoing cycle. But there were plenty of similarities to give the feeling of "but by the grace of God, there go I." I still have that sense whenever I see these sorts of stories.

I was blessed to grow up with a mother who valued education. She wanted me to get an education and did everything she could to facilitate it. I got a college degree and a job as a result. And I found a way to make a life for myself. And I'm grateful. Every day.

But I never forget how precarious such things are. I know people who are smarter than me who didn't find a way to make a life for themselves. It was not because of a lack of desire on their parts, but because they didn't have a support system of family and friends, or because they zigged when they should have zagged, or because they made a seemingly insignificant decision that had serious repercussions and they never recovered. And they weren't blessed with someone like Greg in their lives who has always been a tremendously positive force in my life - always supportive and kind and encouraging - who daily brings a different perspective to life and how it can be lived.

I'm always mindful that if being unable to make a decent life happened to others it could happen to me. After all, none of us is all that different from another. I go through my days feeling like I lead a charmed life because I have all I need and some of what I want. It's not that I don't want more security, but I know how precious any semblance of normalcy is.

Maybe if you've never witnessed such things, or known people who are fighting to hold on to the most basic of necessities, you don't think about these things. I can remember the bathroom being installed in the home where I grew up. I can remember bringing in coal for the heating stove that warmed the whole house. I can remember listening to stories of hard times, and knowing that despite what people would have you believe, hard work did not always keep those at bay.

I was very lucky - we were never hungry, and we were never living in squalor - but others were. However, there was alcoholism and abuse in my world, as there were in many people's. If you haven't lived with it, you can't understand it. Sorry, but you just can't. And no matter how it's explained to you you just won't get it. Not because you don't want to understand, but because words cannot describe it sufficiently.

It breaks my heart to see people struggling with such basic needs like food. It is a disgrace that anyone in this country is hungry. Ever. Maybe if you've never seen people hungry, through no fault of their own, it's easy to say they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps. When you've seen it's not that people choose those lives, but that those lives happen to them, it becomes a different story.

Maybe only when you realize it could be your story do you feel any compassion. Maybe that, in a nutshell, is the distinction between the liberal mindset and the conservative one. Maybe those of us who can see ourselves in that place, with those difficulties, feel a need to fix it. It's not altruistic, it's self-protection. We're frightened of what it means for us if that exists for anyone. Maybe conservatives can't imagine themselves in those circumstances and it's easy to point out the trail of bad decisions, not understanding that sometimes there isn't a good decision to be made.

I think I'll go say another prayer of Thanksgiving now, followed by one of entreatment.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

Free Advertising Advice

You know what they say about free advice - it's worth every penny you paid for it. That said, I'm going to dispense some free advertising advice, which you can choose to ignore or heed. I do have some training and experience with advertising so I'm not just blathering with no background.

Here's the advice. Do NOT make your children or grandchildren the stars of your commercials if you really want to get across some message. And, by the way, getting across a message is generally the reason for advertising.

I just watched a TV commercial for something - I can't recall what, which is a big problem - where two girls were singing some unintelligible song that had nothing to do with anything as far as I could tell. They were cute, but they were not star singers. Unless you're raising the next LeAnn Rimes, please, resist.

If you feel a need to include your children and grandchildren, question that. If you just can't stop yourself, make them extras in the commercial. If you just cannot control your urge to have them front and center, try to have them doing or saying something that is central to the product or service you're trying to sell.

Okay, that's it. Do as you wish, of course. But consider why you're spending that advertising money - is it to increase sales/awareness or to give a perk to the children in your life? They are not necessarily compatible.
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