Semper Fi

Upon passing the funeral home at the end of town, we realized that the person being lain to rest was a child who attended kindergarten with my daughter. He hadn't gone to school with her all through high school, but I'm sure he brought cupcakes for significant parties and birthdays. He was 25 years old, and received a Purple Heart for his bravery in Iraq. Something else we noticed was the motorcycle gang, flag bearers lining the driveway in honor of this young man and in protection of family and friends who could be harassed by protestors. I didn't see protestors, and doubt that I would have in our small town, but it was a kindness.

Lunch and changes

We all arrive at a crossroads in our lives and none moreso than my darling young lady daughter. Lots of conversation about programs and where lives are directed. Wonderful lunch with sister and her friend. Chimichangas and sherbet. Fun, jokes and conversation. But back home to serious conversations. I wonder how I'd illustrate someone at the crossroads of their life. Not sure. Wonder if we could solve it in a half hour like the Gilmore Girls. Ah, Luke would come in and save the day I'm sure.

A New Day

Surprised by SOLUMEDROL treatment arriving in by FED EX this AM. Didn't expect treatment until the 31st. This means we can all go with JUJU to Lima. Day trips are always great and welcomed. Might do a dry run today. And on a nice sunny Saturday with lots of kids out and enjoying the day; I'm just as glad to be going. Spent some time along the river as is our usual haunt. Campsite at Hull Prairie was pretty well vacant, the walleye run now over and the river too high for the bass run that usually comes in June.
Then dinner out, a treat, with a Reuben from Arby's and Diet Mountain Dew. So thirsty and it was so refreshing.
Cleaned area this evening around the area that had been inhabited by Pidge. Time to contemplate, remember, and be grateful for her wonderful 11 years of companionship.

Laughter and Tears

We all saw this coming; the demise of a dear friend. My pigeon, Pidge, has lived with me in my studio for 11 years and judging from the early events in her life was possibly 12 or 13 when we said our goodbyes. She survived pneumonia and probably succumbed to cancer. I will always be grateful for the special veternarians who made her last days comfortable and her passing easier. I hurt today, along with my other family members; dread going into the room, my studio when she left such an imprint. But wonder where else the lessons learned could have been learned without the pain. I think of the funny things she did and it brings laughter. The last week or so, "force feeding her" brought a chuckle to my daughter and I as she characteristically swung her head around spitting meds and a yeasty smelling food in our direction.
She never left "nesting" mode, tugging on shoelaces when she could no longer fly. As we saw her neurolgical system seriously compromised, we knew a final decision had to be made. She passed peacefully with mild anaesthetic at Dr.Tim's office. We appreciate the kindness and compassion of this fine vet and his staff.

The Road Not Taken

I always loved this poem by Robert Frost:



TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Like the poet, I chose the road less travelled, at least by many of my illustrator contemporaries. I didn't have the opportunity to attend many conferences and as a writer and illustrator have often been conflicted as to which to pursue more passionately. I was probably one of the last to open an online journal and to become agented.
I pondered all this as we river walked last night. No sooner had we gotten out of the van than we were met with heavy sprinkles. Not a deluge, mind you, just sprinkles that sharp and cold would have sent most people back to the van. We ended up in a gazebo type shelter over looking a pond. My daughter teased me about looking like the scene in SOUND OF MUSIC where Rolf is pursuing young Liesl in the glass gazebo.
The rain let up and we wandered down a hill and to the main road which we followed along the river. Suddenly my cane wnet nearly to the ground and I realized I'd lost a bolt and wing nut rending my cane pretty useless. (I can walk without it, but use if for balance for long distances and to maintain energy especially if a leg goes out; a nasty symptom of MS.)
A quick trip to a hardware store and my dear husband's ingenuity, it was quickly usable again.
Once home, I had some internet time and discovered paths some old online friends had taken. Enviably clever, moving from their traditional mediums with skills I sadly don't possess had shown them to have smart business savvy. So I glowered through the evening wondering what piece of the puzzle I'm missing. Then it occurred to me that while we're watching what others are doing, we might be missing our own uniqueness. A reminder to happily stay on our less travelled roads.