New Year’s Day 2014

Last night I celebrated the end of a year.
I was clever and giddy last night,
consuming food far too rich and drinking too much wine.
It was, indeed a great gathering…
last night, a few dear friends engaged in feasting, dance and song.
I tumbled into bed scarcely past 1:30…
 Good morning you party girl! I could not rise upright before nine
 needing to nap again before noon… rumbly tummy…
 Now,”tis only nine pm- I surrender to the clock and shut out the light.

Happiness Project for 2014

Starting on January 1st write good things

that happen to you on little pieces of paper:

*surprise gifts

*accomplished goals

*the beauty of nature

*“LOL” moments

*Memories worth saving

*things that made you smile

*things you are grateful for

*Daily blessings 

Then, on Dec.31st open the jar

and read all the amazing things

that happened

to you!!!

 

Teetering on the edge

My days seem to drip down more rapidly

 now, as I am standing

near the edge

of another New Year…

Time drifts in the sand dial as

Remembered

broken resolutions

elicit both sighs

and whys;

lofty challenges tossed

out in the mine-paths

of my already too-filled days,

get tucked away in the over-stuffed files

of my mental memory bank

until…

N*O*W !

Now, when it is time to review

them,

(or possibly renew them

if they are worthy of a second look)

Teetering on the edge

between Christmas and New Year

I, too, have been merry

and I also have been not so…

My heart is filled with family

present and those who are lost forever

except to my soul.

I am giddy with grandchildren and

even more great-grands!

Life is good here on the edge!

The trees all ornamented and festooned

will remain until I can’t stand to look

at the bedazzlement any longer!

I stand here again at the edge of another year;

“I procrastinate therefore I am”.

12/29/2013

The passing of a hero…

Image                Floyd J. Harrison
                                                              January 8, 1923  –  December 1, 2013 

CM/Sgt USAF (retired) Floyd J. Harrison passed away Sunday Dec.1, 2013 in San Antonio, Texas at the age of 90.

He was born to Pioneer parents. His mother made the land run opening Oklahoma to settlement, She was aged 6 at the time (1889) His father was a Sooner, as he had been in Indian Territory since 1875. He was born late in their Lives. His dad was 64 and mom was 40 when he was born on January 8, 1923 in Hominy, OK. He had 12 brothers and sisters.

 During WW2 he enlisted in the Navy and following a combat tour in B-24s, was sent to Minneapolis, MN. for advanced Electronics school. There he met the love of his life. Because he had another tour of combat to make, she moved to Los Angeles where her brother lived; he was posted to San Diego Naval Air Station. They were married in 1946 just after he was discharged from the Navy. They were living in Oklahoma and he was employed running a Bar and Pool room. The recruiter for the USAF came by every day to visit him, and, as the Berlin Airlift had just begun, he joined the Air Force as a Tech Sgt ( E-6) and was soon on my way to Europe to fly the Air Lift.
His Sweetie and two babies (Barb and Nance) soon joined him in Frankfurt, Germany. When the Airlift ended, he was posted to Copenhagen Denmark flying as Radio Op for General Ralph Snavely, who was part of the Military Assistance Advisory Group. Daughter Jennifer was born in Denmark on a day when he was flying down to Germany. His next tour of duty was on a remote radar installation in the Aleutian Islands; while there his son Dan was born in MN. The family later joined him in Alaska. Throughout his career they enjoyed many great duty stations covering many years before retiring in 1974 in San Antonio.

 He was preceded in death on Dec.3, 1998 by Elsie G. Harrison, (Sweetie) his wife of 54 years and three grandsons. He is survived by his children, Barbara Luthy, husband Richard of San Antonio; Nancy Saylor, life partner, James Jacobs of Austin; Jennifer Haggy and husband Roger of San Antonio; son Dan Harrison and Judy Thompson ,San Antonio and daughter Paula Coleman and husband Paul Coleman of Corpus Christi. In addition he had 15 grandchildren and 8 great- great grandchildren, as well as numerous nieces and nephews. Following the death of his wife, he enjoyed spending many years with his dear companion, Nell.

He was a 4th Degree Knight in the Knights of Columbus, and he enjoyed fishing, golf and reading.

Rosary will be held Sunday night at 7pm at Porter Loring Funeral Home in San Antonio; Funeral Mass will be Monday, Dec.9 at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church followed by burial at Ft. Sam Houston National Cemetery.

R.I.P. Daddy

 

We are family~~~~

January 6, 2013
It has not quite been a week since I returned to my blog…planning to continue writing here weekly for all of 2013. It has so far not proved to be too difficult…not with-standing the pain I have sitting here perched on the edge of a wooden straight-back folding chair in this wreck of a space I call my computer room. It is not the computer that is a wreck but rather the mistress of the room, Moi`. I sit, now, perched because the sciatica that has plagued me for over two years. I finally rounded a corner in regard to the sciatica within the last week; I asked my Physical Medicine Doctor to send my record and referral to a Neuro-guy. By Neuro-guy I mean surgeon because at this point that seems to be the option I have been scudding towards, heels dug-in for the past how many months that turned into years.
I was no more aware of my aching back-butt unit than yesterday when my beloved Romeo and I made a day trip to San Antonio from our home in the center -of-our-Universe, which is South Austin, Texas. The occasion for the trip, was a birthday dinner celebrating my father’s upcoming 90th birthday in 2 days. All but 1 of my sibs live in San Antonio, as does my dad. I knew the trip was coming up and as if instinctively my back began to act up as dawn broke.
No matter how I wriggled around in the car seat my back rewarded me with streaks of pain rushing from back to hip to big toe on the right side of my body. When it was not shooting pain it was a feeling as if ice water was trickling down the leg. I am not normally such a grumpy co-pilot; however, poor Romeo had to endure the spin-off effects of my misery the entire 84.3 miles to the Outback Steakhouse. We were low on gas, my fault for not filling the car after I finished at the nail salon. Just the small act of getting fuel seemed to warrant another explosion from me. Dare I say taking the wrong exit off the freeway launched yet another tirade from her not- driving –the- car. Sigh.
The family had been seated in the restaurant by the time we arrived. Everyone was there…nope, wait, someone was missing. One of my sisters and her husband sent apologies…sick with a cold. I freaking quietly became ballistic, sharing my dissatisfaction with my baby sister who filled me in on the absence. All is good everyone said because she did not want to get our daddy sick…grudgingly, I agreed it was probably just as well-after all, she was a nurse.
We shared appetizers and bread and girl trips to the bathroom together. My dad was very happy to have a majority of the family together. We told jokes, talked about the economy, retirement and bad backs. Some of us mouthed silent messages across the table to each other, and we adjourned back to dad’s to say our goodbyes. No one was hungry for cake since the server and her team brought daddy a small cake and sang a birthday song. It was a good day.
I was much more relaxed on the return trip home. I apologized repeatedly to my love who repeatedly said it was not necessary. My back will hurt until it is fixed…I might as well be as cheerful over top of the pain as possible, because my wonderful Daddy will only turn 90 one time. I was glad to share it with him.

Old lang syne

I love new years…blank pages in a journal, the first pages of a brand spanking unscribbled on calendar. The hope that fills the air as old friends and new aquaintainces hug and kiss goodnite to celebrate the end of the passing year.
I spent last evening in the company of fond friends and some friends of these friends…and of course, my Romeo. The dinner party planned for nearly a month and repeatedly reminded to me-lest I weazel my way out with some lame excuse. Our hosts were serving prime rib, and the other three couples side dishes. Simple enough…Romeo went to the grocer to get what I needed; I rested. I’d only had to work part of the day and ended up working even longer than I had planned.I was home from work by two thirty and so exhausted I needed a nap.The party was great-good friends, great food and memorable conversations. I hurt so much by eleven that we missed the fireworks.

For the past two years I have been enduring chronic back pain. Over the past two months it seems to be progressing rapidly. With each new sypmptom I cringe. I have been avoiding the trajectory that has nonetheless marched on, bringing me and my ailing back with it. It is sometimes impossible to walk more than a few dozen feet or sit for more than twenty minutes or stand in place for more than ten. I am grateful for good insurance and working in a great job. There are days or more likely nights when I truly understand what so many of the patients I encounter go through. Many suffer from chronic pain, some physical others emotional or mental. I understand their need to feel some relief from constant suffering…I cringe when I hear our staff refer to them as “drug-seeking”. I take the same medication they are accused of abusing. I understand why they do so. I inch closer to that understanding each week. I hate it. I hate taking pills to try to have a restful night. I hate the constipation and the morning groginess.I have exhausted my options now and the next choice is naming the doctor who will attempt to make this nightmare end. I will try to give an accurate accounting of how that all looks after I meet with him/her.

Now the last day of the first day of the new year is ebbing. My Narco 10/325 is working. I can feel my head fogging up. Romeo is watching a football game with the dogs napping close by. The only indication there was Christmas this year is our miniature four foot tree with no ornaments save the large sparkly butterfly on top and the trees built in fibre optic lights. It sits darkly in the living room. By all honest accounts,I am not firing on all of my available cylinders.

I am optomistically attempting to make this blog weekly, or whenever I get inspired to say something. Don’t hold my feet to the fire if I miss a day. I am too tired to try and find the spell check tonight.

Happy New year one and all. Tomorrow is a work day so off to dreamland I go…