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Today was jury duty day! I showed up on time, even early, and I filled out my paperwork, and then I waited. And waited. And waited. Only to be told with 40 other people waiting, that the defendant made a plea. Yippee! I did my duty. Unlike most of my friends, my jury duty is in Cripple Creek. Unfortunately the path to Cripple Creek is riddled with construction. It took just as long to make it back to civilization as it did to sit and wait in the jury room. Little did I know that excitement awaited me before I hit the construction zone.

I was whizzing along at about 40 mph when a huge, and I don’t mean small, bumblebee flew right in the car through my passenger window and nearly landed in my lap. Am I afraid of bees? YES! So, I screamed and not too delicately pulled over, and jumped out of my car. I shut the door so it wouldn’t get torn off by other cars flying by and ran around to the passenger side. I opened the door but I couldn’t see the huge and I mean huge bumblebee. I could hear it. Buzzing in this ultra loud buzzing scream it was doing. I think it was scared and dazed.

I looked down and saw a plastic fork on the floorboard of the car. If you have a teenager, you probably have one on your floorboard too. I gently scooped him up with the fork and threw him into the scrub on the side of the road. I slammed the car door and ran around to the drivers side and rolled up the windows as quickly as the little motor would allow. I was still shaking as I drove away.

Well that was my eventful morning. I am glad I could share that with all of you. Now back to our regularly scheduled program.

nope

I’m just not speaking right now.

stiffy

I just wanted to write the word “stiffy”. Now it is out of my system and I can move on.

death of true love…revisited

My husband had this to say about my last post:

I respectfully disagree! True love is not dead and for all you romantic hopefuls keep on hoping because it does indeed exist! I submit love cannot be known as “True” until it has been tried. It is not always at our choosing that this occurs, but believe me it does occur. Then and only then can it be considered “True Love”. People, situations & circumstances can’t always be perfect or ideal. How we adapt to the people we love and persevere through our trials is what counts. Oh, and a word to anyone thinking of claiming a “prize”, you better pack a lunch because it will be a cold day in hell before you claim mine! Love you baby.

I stand corrected.

death of true love

I don’t think anyone wakes up in the morning and expects their life to change in some dramatic way. Well, maybe I do, but I don’t think there are many others out there that feel that way. I’ve lived in chaos most of my life. Some is self-inflicted and most is inflicted upon me. I’m not complaining. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s just that I’ve always been one of those “hopers”. You know, those incessant people that try to always hope for the best, try to see the positive side of a situation, that sort of thing. I do sometimes get pessimistic, but it doesn’t last very long. I guess what I am trying to say is that it’s quite devastating when something you hope for, something you wish for and truly believe in is a myth. No matter what you do, or say, what you are hoping for will never, ever happen and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Because inevitably, when what you are hoping for is true love, you are bound to be disappointed.

This girl – this girl who has lived with the indestructible illusion that true love exists, has been sadly and unquestioningly let down by the one person that she thought could prove that true love is possible. Funny how something as simple as love can bring hope to its knees.

So, to all those in my life who told me true love is an illusion, a childish dream — you have won. Claim your prize.

Earth

I was thinking about this incredible place we call home.  How old is it?  Well so far, scientists have found rocks they can date back to about 3.8 to 3.9 billion years and other evidence that the solar system is at least 4 billion years old.  The surface of the earth is about 70% water and 30% land.  That’s a lot of water!  My big question about earth is this…who named it?  Who came up with the name Earth for our planet?

Earth has many names.  In Roman mythology the Goddess of Earth was Tellus .   In Greek it is Mother Earth – Gaia.  Earth is the only planet who’s name is not derived from Greek or Roman mythology.   The name Earth comes from the Old Saxon word ‘ertha’, the Dutch word ‘aerde’ and the German word ‘erda’.  At least that’s what I have found so far. 

Humans didn’t even realize they were living on a planet (I don’t think animals care).  It was not until the 16th Century astronomer, Copernicus advanced the theory that the Earth and other planets revolve around the Sun.  I know that people like to say that God named Earth because it is in the Bible.  Well, the Bible was translated into English.  The Hebrew word Eretz which means land or ground was translated as Earth.  So, I wouldn’t assume to think that God named the planet. 

So, it looks as though Earth is Earth because humans referred to the land as Earth.  If we were water dwelling, the planet may have been named something else like Neptune – well, at least before we used it for another planet.  I’m still getting used to the idea that Pluto is now classified as a dwarf planet.

So, there it is.  I love this planet we have named Earth.

42

42 degrees is the angle that light is reflected inside a raindrop to make a rainbow.

Just some random information for the day relating to 42. Why 42? Because that is my age, and one of my favorite numbers.

Life

I googled “meaning of life” and got “Page cannot be displayed”. Perfect.

just thinking….

I know it is only February, but this year has been exhausting. I’m not complaining. I am grateful for many, many things. It’s just that I’m a little tired already. I want to get all this out of me and in writing, because that is how I purge. So, with that…

January: My mother’s funeral/memorial/party, R. has surgery twice – both times fail, dogs run off, Fifi gets pregnant, Thor is missing for 2 weeks and 1 day.

February: Thor is back – although skinny, R. has his 5th procedure and this time it is successful, FiFi and Zume go off on Valentines day and play on the ice and fall through, FiFi did not make it, R.’s Aunt died, and Kegan’s girlfriend breaks up with him — that might not sound like a big deal, but I really like her. That’s it so far, but the month is not over yet. In brighter news, I revamped my children’s story while I was at the hospital with R. and I really like where it is going.

How is your year so far?

Movie night

So, Saturday, my husband and I took my son and his girlfriend to see Underworld. We totally love Underworld, so we were pretty psyched about seeing this movie. It starts out okay, but then some boneheaded parents had the absolute insolence to bring their 4 year old to this movie. It is violent, bloody and has gratuitous sex scenes, so is completely inappropriate for a child. Not only did these parents (who shoud be arrested for child abuse and plain stupidity) let their child see this movie, they let her walk around the theater bothering people. What the hell is wrong with these people? I really, really don’t want some little kid standing in front of me asking me my name while people are on a big screen having sex. We hardly ever get to the movies anymore, and these completely oblivious, inconsiderate, selfish parents ruined the movie for those around them. People that have little kids should either stay home and wait for the movie to come out on dvd or get a babysitter. There is no excuse for bringing a little kid to an R rated movie – ever.

why o why must the cow die?

This is a poem of the highest caliber written by my phenomenal son, Kegan:

At night I hear the screams,
of victims awakened from their dreams.
The sound of gunshots fill the night.
I wonder if I’ll survive my plight.
I bar the doors with wooden chairs,
to keep away from all their stares.
A can of mace, a forty five,
is all I need to stay alive.
They claw, they scratch upon my door.
I’ve tried to stop them from doing more.
I stay all alone in this room,
wondering if this is my impending doom.
I plan, I plot, I think, I derive,
trying just to stay alive.
Is it worth it? Staying alive?
When I’m the only one left to survive.
With this I draw my last breath,
as I pull the pin to my certain death.
I open the door I laugh, I grin.
They Have no idea what’s about to begin.
I run through the crowd of undead,
as I run my face turns red.
I see the window, I take a dive,
trying my best to stay alive.
I hit the glass, drop the grenade,
this Is their last serenade.
As I fall I hear the boom,
sending them to their certain doom.
I hit the ground, I hear something crack.
God I hope it wasn’t my back.
I see the building start to sway,
the bricks and mortar giving way.
I roll over and I sigh,
trying hard not to cry.
I prop myself up and look around,
trying not to make a sound.
-Kegan Clifton

Manufact

I would like to share a form of entertainment that my family amuses themselves with. It’s called manufacts. What is a manufact you ask? It is a manufactured fact that sounds so good, it could be true. For example, the other night we were talking about genoa salami. I stated that genoa salami comes from Genoa Italy. Now, I had no facts to back up my statement at all, but it seems like a perfectly legitimate fact. Later of course I looked it up and genoa salami, did in fact originate in Genoa Italy. So, my “manufact” turned out to be a real fact. Cool — snaps for me.

My point here is that it is fun to make up your own manufacts. It’s even more fun to look them up and see if you are right.

Do you have any manufacts?

boys in tight pants reprised

A while back I blogged about boys in tight pants and how it’s just all so wrong. This last weekend I was shown an amazing video, that totally captured my feelings about girlpants worn by boys…

This totally incredible band is Sine Language. Check them out! Oh, I forgot to mention that this is my nephew Dustin’s band.

life is a lie

Life is a delicate, intricately woven lie with bits of truth entwined throughout. We lay with this thick, stiffling cover over our faces, keeping us from seeing beyond the beautiful, malevolent weave. It’s never too late to breach the weave to see out past the design of your own creation.

I need a pair of good scissors.

I want to do a year in review…

but my heart is not in it. Instead, I will do my year looking forward. I don’t make resolutions — mostly because I can’t stick to them and then I feel completely dissapointed in myself. So, in the year looking forward, I will focus on my spirit, mind and body. I think the best way to do this is to learn Shaolin Kung Fu. Yep…that’s what I want to do this coming year. I’m not going to make stupid resolutions that will fall to the wayside one by one. Instead I will be resolute in my need to improve my overall state of mind and body. I have wanted to learn Kung Fu for as long as I can remember, and it’s not just because it’s fun to say “Kung Fu”, but because it is an amazing art, and I just want to!

I am looking forward to my future.

today

Diane Marie Francis
Nov. 25, 1938 – Dec. 30, 2008

My mom died this morning. My sister called last night to tell me that she was in the hospital. This morning she called to say that “Mom is gone”. Strange words those. They keep echoing in my mind. I can hear my sister’s voice, the tone, the breath, the tears, the sadness. “Mom is gone.” So final. It’s all so final. I knew – we all knew that she would eventually let go of this world. I just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. She had cancer – the kind that infiltrates vital organs in your body like your liver, colon, intestines and others. We found out only a few months ago that she has, had cancer, and now she is gone. “Mom is gone.” I can still hear my sister’s voice.

The tears won’t stop. I don’t know if they will ever stop, and I don’t care if they ever do.

She wasn’t a woman who left behind a legacy of worldly exploits or incredible feats of daring. She was my mom. She could make me feel better about most anything by saying “Don’t be sad Shar, everything will be okay.” She was strong, funny, goofy, smart, out-going, creative, kind, caring, generous, loving, and a realm of so much more. She could write beautiful poetry and insanely offbeat stories, and just recently I found out that she could sing. I love my mother. The legacy she left behind is her children. We are all alike in so many ways and yet so extremely different. In her youngest daughter, Chrissy, she left her strength and her caring. In me, her middle daughter Sharon, she left her creativity and goofiness. In her oldest daughter Cindy, she left her kindness and generous heart. And in her only son Billy, she left her humor and gregariousness. To all of us, she left her never-ending love.

If I close my eyes, I can hear her voice, “Don’t be sad Shar, everything will be okay.”

Billy, Cindy, Mom, Sharon and Chrissy Thanksgiving 2008

the morning after

The day after Christmas always seems to be depressing. Not when I was a child, because I still had toys to play with, but as an adult. I didn’t get any toys this year. Maybe that’s why I’m slightly depressed. I honestly think that toys are an essential part of any Christmas. I recieved some lovely presents, things I very much wanted, but alas, no toys. Next year I am really hoping for a magic 8 ball, an etch a sketch and maybe a new game. I don’t know if I can hold out another year without a magic 8 ball. I may just go and get one as a Christmas gift to myself.

my inner elf

I’ve been elfed! Elf Yourself

a week in review

It all started on Monday — yes, I know that the week starts on Sunday, but my story begins on Monday. I went to work as usual, although I had a strange feeling that I shouldn’t. I got a call from my husband around 10:30 am. I love when he calls, because no matter what the situation, he always starts the call with “Hi baby, whatcha doin?” or “Hi gorgeous.” I asked him what he was doing and he said he was at the Pikes Peak Regional Hospital (in Teller County about an hour from where I work). My heart stopped. This could mean one of two things: 1) He had to take a “client” to the hospital, or 2) He is in the hospital because he is sick. For those of you who are new to my blog, my husband had a liver transplant about 4 years ago due to PCS. He said he had a fever, the chills, his head was pounding and he was nauseated. Once in a while he will reject his new liver, and this sounded like one of those times. When I arrived at the Hospital, he was YELLOW. Not a pretty sunshine shade of yellow, but a jaundice shade. Was I worried? Yes! See, normally if he is rejecting, we go to Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs and he gets a steroid blast, and within the week he is doing great. Not this time though. This time, his doctor wanted him taken to Denver. That made me very nervous.

We decided I would drive him to Denver. He could have taken the ambulance but Rick, being “the job” didn’t want it leaving the county. He was worried that with road conditions, they would need it for something more important (One of the many reasons he is my hero).

The road conditions were getting pretty bad. Sleet turning the road into ice made for a very scary trip into Denver. It took me a little over 3 hours to get there with my hands locked on the steering wheel. I was turning onto Colorado Avenue when he asked me if I knew where I was going. Sheesh. He was really out of it. Earlier, he kept asking me if I knew where it was, and I kept telling him yes. After all, we spent many a vacation in that hospital doing fun-filled testing. Then he tells me “They moved it.” I was trying to be very patient. I knew they had given him pain medication for his throbbing headache. “Where did they move it?” I asked. “It’s on 16th.” He said. I don’t know Denver that well so it was really fotunate that he asked me to grab his GPS from his police car before we left. I normally am not a big enthusiast when it comes to technology (I know, I am in the tech biz so you think I would embrace it) but I was seriously loving this little gadget. It got us to the hospital in no time at all.

We arrived safely and he was placed in a room on the Transplant floor. I was still completely in the dark. I didn’t know what was wrong with him, what needed to be done, and when it would be done. The nurses came in and made him as comfortable as possible. I told them that I would be staying with him, and they didn’t object. They gave me a comfy chair and the waiting began. Around midnight the nurse brought in some contrast for him to drink. They would be doing a CAT Scan of his guts. He seriously hates contrast. I don’t think anyone likes it. He had to drink a cupful every 20 minutes. He kept falling asleep and I hated waking him, but it was necessary. I was worried that he would not be able to keep it down and he would have to start over, but going slowly, he had no problems. They came and got him around 2 am. I finally fell asleep and didn’t even hear them return him.

Tuesday:
When morning arrived, the doctors came in to let us know the scoop. He would be getting a procedure that drained the bile from his liver. They would be cleaning out the bile ducts, and installing a tube in his side to be worn for about a week. People with PCS also have Ulcerative Colitis, and in this situation it was the Ulcerative Colitis that caused the problems. His bile ducts were inflamed and clogged and needed to be cleared. Yuck.

After a very, very long day of waiting, they took him into surgery at around 3:30 pm. While we were having fun in Denver, my son Kegan was supposed to be taking care of things at home. I tried calling him and calling him and calling him. No answer. He should have been home from school by 3:45. What the hell. I was praying he didn’t miss the bus. On top of worrying about Rick in surgery and Kegan getting home, my phone was almost dead. It hasn’t been taking a charge well, and unfortunately would not charge on my car charger at all, AND…I could not call long distance on the phone in the hospital. AAHHHHH. Yeah, I was freaking out just a little. While Rick was in surgery they moved us to the other side of the Transplant floor where he should have been in the first place. The desk couldn’t get our bed number right, so all our calls were going to the wrong bed. One of the guys Rick works with called (the wrong bed) to check on us and I told him my phone situation and that I couldn’t get a hold of Kegan and I was really worried. He said he would send an officer to the house to check on him. That made me feel better, but the waiting was horrible. I bit off every nail and ripped apart my cuticles until they hurt. I didn’t even know I was doing it. I knew I would have to go back home that night because Kegan would be flying out in the morning to visit his Dad in Nebraska. I was not happy that I would be leaving Rick for the night, but it couldn’t be helped. I got a call (still the wrong bed) from Teller County Dispatch telling me that an officer was at the house and that Kegan was not there. The dogs were barking in the outdoor kennel and there was no sign that Kegan had been home from school. Okay, I was totally upset now. At around 6:00 pm, they brought Ricks roommate into the room and at 6:30 pm Rick arrived. He looked great. THANK GOD. He had a tube coming out of his side, making him borg-like, but other than that, he looked good. The phone rang (still the wrong bed) and it was dispatch again telling me that Kegan had just showed up. He did miss the bus and got a ride from a friend’s mom. Whew. I was seriously exhausted just from stress. At around 7:30 pm, we had a lovely hospital dinner together (he got to order room service and I had to run and get a salad in the cafeteria). After dinner, they gave him some very nice pain medication, and I felt okay about leaving him. At around 9:00 pm I started for home. I got home around 11:00 pm. I took a shower, set my alarm to take Kegan to the airport in the morning and fell fast asleep. Morning came way too soon.

Wednesday:
On the way to the airport, Kegan wanted to stop and see Rick. So, we did. We ran into the hospital, Kegan gave him a hug and we ran out. We got to the airport in good time, and everything went smoothly. When I got back to the hospital, Rick told me he could go home. YES! I was so happy. As we were doing the paperwork and run-through about the care of the lovely tube coming out of his side, I noticed that I forgot to grab his shoes from the room we transferred from. I ran over to the room, and nope…no shoes. I asked the cleaning people and they looked and checked the lost and found, but nothing. They thought the evening cleaning crew may have tossed them. Shit. That totally sucked. My poor husband, after his crappy ordeal had to walk out of the hospital in those silly non-skid slippers they give you. He was really, really not happy. So on the way home I ran into a shoe store and got him some very nice Reeboks – and they even fit. The rest of the week has been fine. He has been doing great, but we have to go back next week to finish the procedure. Hopefully I won’t lose his shoes.

Thanks for all the support, thoughts and prayers. Whew. Just typing this and re-living it has made me tired. I will have more updates as I have more information.

what i did on my thanksgiving vacation

It was loads of fun. I took my son to Missouri to see my family and to spend my Mother’s 70th birthday with her. The week can really be summed up in this video: