Long Time, No Journal. Pack-a-Picnic Post
It's been over three years since I posted on LJ. Some folks may remember me as kiaforrest. Life was wonky and focus was demanded. I was able to take a deep breath this year and remembered I used to have interest, used to laugh more, used to communicate with the outside world, used to think deep thots, pack a picnic and ramble about with words. As snow coated the state, grid locked the traffic, and halted cell communication for most of two days; I was snuggled in our home with my beloved children assisting me with rebuilding an identity aside from weary moma and worker bee. They are *still* the most amazing folks I know!
I started slow with facebook. I still don't like it. Shooting images and one liners out there with the best response being likes and a one liner back just isn't for me. It *is* nifty for Proof of Life, links to interesting articles, books and an occasional giggle. I have met several nifty people. Still, it is not enough. We sort of expected that from the beginning but it was a start, it was something not work or school related, and a way to see if my interests had survived the wonky days. Some had, some hadn't ... life is like that.
I still have no patience for flashing things, no tolerance for clutter, and prefer to sort things in to neat folders. Children understand even as they ::smirk:: over my habits. I am so predictable I guess.
As the weather demonstrated you can hope winter is o-ver but this is a ridiculous expectation in February. I discovered a site looking for a romance book reviewer. My not-very-secret addiction is ferociously reading public domain and romance e-books. I have always had very definite parameters for my vice but maybe it was time to branch out a bit more and see what else was out there. Having elderly eyes, I was forced to give up the printed word on paper a couple years ago. The glory of modern technology is the fact you can have Large Print without the extra expense or weight. You can adjust the brightness, contrast and colors so you don't have strain. You can leave the book, come back and not damage the spine!
So ... I applied, I read amazing and awful stuff and wrote reviews within guidelines of word count and critique the work, not the person. I enjoyed doing this - a bunch! But, the site had several of us reviewing books. I could read faster so I signed up other places, read some more really good stuff, really icky stuff and learned e-books is Big Business. Like any Big Business there are fusses, hierarchies, unwritten rules, etched in stone being kicked at standards and indie authors that have more guts than I ever did or will. When the site took a break, I got on blogger, created a site of my own and just kept on reading and reviewing. It is nice to be a nobody of importance, to just have interest to share and to leave the crisis of egos in other folks' very capable hands. Allowing children to grow in their own way, learn and cope and skin their knees has been the most valuable lesson of my life. Applying it in other areas hasn't been as easy but I'm still growing too and that is OK.
However, I discovered something utterly shocking. There were still Deep Thots tucked inside me. As I wrote a review, I would find myself hacking out chunks of thoughts inspired, or perhaps triggered by, the book because they were irrelevant to the review itself which does and should have limits. A couple times I posted a slightly longer review on my site and a "shortened version" out there on the requested sites but ... it still wasn't enough. I wanted to say more, I wanted to follow the tangent and explore the path and pause for iced tea and cucumber sandwiches along the way. That I wanted anything at all was surprising enough, that it was something from myself that did not have to do with work, school or making five dollars stretch to twenty was practically a divine revelation [without the burning bush thank you very much].
And so here I am, slowly wading a bit deeper in the water, knowing I can't swim but I can float and splash and enjoy the feel of dribblets on my skin, the haze of sun through the leaves while remembering there are snakes in the mud that don't mind me so long as I don't get too close to Their Space. Not having the outlet of paper and pen for a couple years [it is frustrating to write what you later can't really see - or writing with so large a hand you feel like a seven year old - so why bother - yeah, I was in Big Baby Mode and aren't you glad I just censored that with silence :grin:], I shut down that portion of my brain that thought of anything but the needs of the day, the week, this month. Distracting myself with DVDs, music and building elaborate Sims Neighborhoods and Houses [I still don't put Sims in my worlds - just imagine them there] while adjusting to my youngest daughter's diagnosis of Lupus, I kept busy, picked up more hours when possible, kept moving ... kept quiet, didn't think more than necessary, didn't feel ... anything.
Oldest children and I pooled resources and are now living in a double wide with two(2) bathrooms. The property adjoins our Sacred Hilltop in the woods, combined they will have three acres and room for children to expand and begin their own adventures, if ever the economy stabilizes enough. I have four(4) graduates. Eldest Daughter is off on a grand adventure and states away. We keep in touch via text and facebook. She has no idea how much I miss her, or how completely I understand her drive to go forth and see the world. I've told her. She believes me. But still, god how I miss her! I never tried to be my children's best friend, that's not what a child needs, but I forget somewhere along the way that they were and are *my* best friends destined to move away. Not sure I'd do anything different even if I'd remembered.
Eldest son is working in a factory operating a welder because it is a local full time job. His life revolves around holding on to the three acres of land, having a place for all of his siblings to feel as sheltered as he has, and maintaining his online communities while taking an occasional course online. I am so amazed by and proud of him. Every day, his first thought is: Uniform Ready? Followed by: Everyone OK? When we pick him up at midnight, he tells us work was work, "What did I miss?" He can still hold his own in a debate, still leaves his socks in the bathroom instead of the hamper, still keeps up with the news of the world and loves Dr. Who, Star Wars and Hank the Cowdog.
Second Son is still looking for work and maintaining the household as efficiently as any major domo. Everyone tends to take him for granted until he shares a thought he had while peeling potatoes or mowing grass. Then they stand there, grinning or stunned, depending on his statement. He's currently taking three classes online so his brain doesn't rust and dropping off applications as often as businesses allow. HE hasn't given up or lost hope but once.
Second Daughter graduated this year. She is as beautiful inside as out. Her determination to find work matches Second Son's. They went on rounds together last week, laughing at me when I told them to look both ways before crossing the street. ::shrug:: I couldn't think of any other advice to give. She's a girl geek, into animae and making mini-movies and longs to be a voice actress in the future. Since she still has that flat Midwestern tone to her speech patterns I worried until I watched some of the movies she made with her little sister using action figures and voices - omigosh! She's awesome. She has a Plan, a dream, and the determined patience to get there, eventually. Make that Groovy Girl Geek.
Third Daughter is a developing artist. Someday, she will be a Master with acolytes and a fanbase. Her work won ribbons at the fair (and $) last year. Compared to what she's creating this year, they were ho hum. She's as determined as her sister to get to art college, taking courses online, learning new things from YouTubes and experimenting often. Our art supply budget is inadequate but we squeeze it as often as possible. She reads as much as I do, is devoted to her family and friends and loves to cook, which we all appreciate as much as the "free" artwork adorning our Larger Treehouse.
Youngest Daughter, as I said, was diagnosed with Lupus two years ago after an illness that started out like the flu the rest of us had. Over the span of three months, what we thought was strep throat progressed to going from 122 to 94 pounds, lost most of her hair, and scared the hell out of her mother. When they admitted her to the hospital for 'failure to thrive' I was sure we'd both die. We didn't. She and I endured a week apart from everyone else, learned the specifics of treatment, the chronic issues and took copious notes. Kidney biopsy, tons of blood work, heart ultrasounds, etc to determine the baseline damage ... steroids, immune suppressants, anti-malaria drugs, anxiety attacks from medications, vitamin combination experiments and the ongoing difficulty of how meds effect the taste of food have mostly evolved to a routine of no steroids, one fourth of the immune suppressant and hope the anti-malaria will be weaned from by the end of the year. She has regained all the lost weight, grown four inches, hair is lustrous and thick, and been two years without a flare. There are days her energy level is low. She's learned to compensate but not define herself as a "lupus child." I'm thankful she's wise enough to see beyond the limits to what she Can Do. She's kept up with her school work and we actually ended school three weeks early this year because she and Fourth Daughter completed their work and projects. Yeah for home schooling that works around the bad hours/ days. I didn't miss any days of work, except for the emergency week and planned lab days that I had vacation hours for. She is planning to be a writer. If she isn't causing mischief or studying something on the web, she's scribbling away on her wee pc.
And that's where we are now. Old News leads to applying current lessons and future experiences. Having [finally] accepted my eyes are what they are, I decided to begin again with a livejournal. One less thing to dust or keep up with in comparison to the notebook/ pens and slips of paper I carted around for years and years. I fear since I don't have an alternative outlet, this place will find long posts the norm. Between the reading and reviews they won't be too frequent to annoy. At least, that's my hope balancing my fears. Family, friends and acquaintances are under no obligation to reply, or hit that "like" thingie, or promote my latest what-evah. I'm just here, content in the fact Deep Thots still exist now and then, that I've remembered how to feel something other than tenacious despite my certainty all was banished by wonkiness.
I started slow with facebook. I still don't like it. Shooting images and one liners out there with the best response being likes and a one liner back just isn't for me. It *is* nifty for Proof of Life, links to interesting articles, books and an occasional giggle. I have met several nifty people. Still, it is not enough. We sort of expected that from the beginning but it was a start, it was something not work or school related, and a way to see if my interests had survived the wonky days. Some had, some hadn't ... life is like that.
I still have no patience for flashing things, no tolerance for clutter, and prefer to sort things in to neat folders. Children understand even as they ::smirk:: over my habits. I am so predictable I guess.
As the weather demonstrated you can hope winter is o-ver but this is a ridiculous expectation in February. I discovered a site looking for a romance book reviewer. My not-very-secret addiction is ferociously reading public domain and romance e-books. I have always had very definite parameters for my vice but maybe it was time to branch out a bit more and see what else was out there. Having elderly eyes, I was forced to give up the printed word on paper a couple years ago. The glory of modern technology is the fact you can have Large Print without the extra expense or weight. You can adjust the brightness, contrast and colors so you don't have strain. You can leave the book, come back and not damage the spine!
So ... I applied, I read amazing and awful stuff and wrote reviews within guidelines of word count and critique the work, not the person. I enjoyed doing this - a bunch! But, the site had several of us reviewing books. I could read faster so I signed up other places, read some more really good stuff, really icky stuff and learned e-books is Big Business. Like any Big Business there are fusses, hierarchies, unwritten rules, etched in stone being kicked at standards and indie authors that have more guts than I ever did or will. When the site took a break, I got on blogger, created a site of my own and just kept on reading and reviewing. It is nice to be a nobody of importance, to just have interest to share and to leave the crisis of egos in other folks' very capable hands. Allowing children to grow in their own way, learn and cope and skin their knees has been the most valuable lesson of my life. Applying it in other areas hasn't been as easy but I'm still growing too and that is OK.
However, I discovered something utterly shocking. There were still Deep Thots tucked inside me. As I wrote a review, I would find myself hacking out chunks of thoughts inspired, or perhaps triggered by, the book because they were irrelevant to the review itself which does and should have limits. A couple times I posted a slightly longer review on my site and a "shortened version" out there on the requested sites but ... it still wasn't enough. I wanted to say more, I wanted to follow the tangent and explore the path and pause for iced tea and cucumber sandwiches along the way. That I wanted anything at all was surprising enough, that it was something from myself that did not have to do with work, school or making five dollars stretch to twenty was practically a divine revelation [without the burning bush thank you very much].
And so here I am, slowly wading a bit deeper in the water, knowing I can't swim but I can float and splash and enjoy the feel of dribblets on my skin, the haze of sun through the leaves while remembering there are snakes in the mud that don't mind me so long as I don't get too close to Their Space. Not having the outlet of paper and pen for a couple years [it is frustrating to write what you later can't really see - or writing with so large a hand you feel like a seven year old - so why bother - yeah, I was in Big Baby Mode and aren't you glad I just censored that with silence :grin:], I shut down that portion of my brain that thought of anything but the needs of the day, the week, this month. Distracting myself with DVDs, music and building elaborate Sims Neighborhoods and Houses [I still don't put Sims in my worlds - just imagine them there] while adjusting to my youngest daughter's diagnosis of Lupus, I kept busy, picked up more hours when possible, kept moving ... kept quiet, didn't think more than necessary, didn't feel ... anything.
Oldest children and I pooled resources and are now living in a double wide with two(2) bathrooms. The property adjoins our Sacred Hilltop in the woods, combined they will have three acres and room for children to expand and begin their own adventures, if ever the economy stabilizes enough. I have four(4) graduates. Eldest Daughter is off on a grand adventure and states away. We keep in touch via text and facebook. She has no idea how much I miss her, or how completely I understand her drive to go forth and see the world. I've told her. She believes me. But still, god how I miss her! I never tried to be my children's best friend, that's not what a child needs, but I forget somewhere along the way that they were and are *my* best friends destined to move away. Not sure I'd do anything different even if I'd remembered.
Eldest son is working in a factory operating a welder because it is a local full time job. His life revolves around holding on to the three acres of land, having a place for all of his siblings to feel as sheltered as he has, and maintaining his online communities while taking an occasional course online. I am so amazed by and proud of him. Every day, his first thought is: Uniform Ready? Followed by: Everyone OK? When we pick him up at midnight, he tells us work was work, "What did I miss?" He can still hold his own in a debate, still leaves his socks in the bathroom instead of the hamper, still keeps up with the news of the world and loves Dr. Who, Star Wars and Hank the Cowdog.
Second Son is still looking for work and maintaining the household as efficiently as any major domo. Everyone tends to take him for granted until he shares a thought he had while peeling potatoes or mowing grass. Then they stand there, grinning or stunned, depending on his statement. He's currently taking three classes online so his brain doesn't rust and dropping off applications as often as businesses allow. HE hasn't given up or lost hope but once.
Second Daughter graduated this year. She is as beautiful inside as out. Her determination to find work matches Second Son's. They went on rounds together last week, laughing at me when I told them to look both ways before crossing the street. ::shrug:: I couldn't think of any other advice to give. She's a girl geek, into animae and making mini-movies and longs to be a voice actress in the future. Since she still has that flat Midwestern tone to her speech patterns I worried until I watched some of the movies she made with her little sister using action figures and voices - omigosh! She's awesome. She has a Plan, a dream, and the determined patience to get there, eventually. Make that Groovy Girl Geek.
Third Daughter is a developing artist. Someday, she will be a Master with acolytes and a fanbase. Her work won ribbons at the fair (and $) last year. Compared to what she's creating this year, they were ho hum. She's as determined as her sister to get to art college, taking courses online, learning new things from YouTubes and experimenting often. Our art supply budget is inadequate but we squeeze it as often as possible. She reads as much as I do, is devoted to her family and friends and loves to cook, which we all appreciate as much as the "free" artwork adorning our Larger Treehouse.
Youngest Daughter, as I said, was diagnosed with Lupus two years ago after an illness that started out like the flu the rest of us had. Over the span of three months, what we thought was strep throat progressed to going from 122 to 94 pounds, lost most of her hair, and scared the hell out of her mother. When they admitted her to the hospital for 'failure to thrive' I was sure we'd both die. We didn't. She and I endured a week apart from everyone else, learned the specifics of treatment, the chronic issues and took copious notes. Kidney biopsy, tons of blood work, heart ultrasounds, etc to determine the baseline damage ... steroids, immune suppressants, anti-malaria drugs, anxiety attacks from medications, vitamin combination experiments and the ongoing difficulty of how meds effect the taste of food have mostly evolved to a routine of no steroids, one fourth of the immune suppressant and hope the anti-malaria will be weaned from by the end of the year. She has regained all the lost weight, grown four inches, hair is lustrous and thick, and been two years without a flare. There are days her energy level is low. She's learned to compensate but not define herself as a "lupus child." I'm thankful she's wise enough to see beyond the limits to what she Can Do. She's kept up with her school work and we actually ended school three weeks early this year because she and Fourth Daughter completed their work and projects. Yeah for home schooling that works around the bad hours/ days. I didn't miss any days of work, except for the emergency week and planned lab days that I had vacation hours for. She is planning to be a writer. If she isn't causing mischief or studying something on the web, she's scribbling away on her wee pc.
And that's where we are now. Old News leads to applying current lessons and future experiences. Having [finally] accepted my eyes are what they are, I decided to begin again with a livejournal. One less thing to dust or keep up with in comparison to the notebook/ pens and slips of paper I carted around for years and years. I fear since I don't have an alternative outlet, this place will find long posts the norm. Between the reading and reviews they won't be too frequent to annoy. At least, that's my hope balancing my fears. Family, friends and acquaintances are under no obligation to reply, or hit that "like" thingie, or promote my latest what-evah. I'm just here, content in the fact Deep Thots still exist now and then, that I've remembered how to feel something other than tenacious despite my certainty all was banished by wonkiness.