Teddie is only here for two weeks, and she broke already! Yesterday when I took her for a short walk up the street with her Maltese friends, she seemed fine and was happily snuffling through the leaves at the edge of the sidewalk. She was doing puppy zoomies, with little growls of excitement, as she zipped ahead on the leash, and then....the scream. It was a very big scream for a little puppy! I looked at her foot to see if she stepped on anything and then whisked her home. Her front left foot was limp and she was in obvious pain, whining and whimpering as though her leg was severed. It has to be broken, I thought. But how? Huh? The reaction was similar to when Tilly dislocated his hip!

Anne came over with a little ice pack and held her while I called around to find a vet that could see her. I know Carol wasn't open, but I tried anyway out of habit and because I was freaking out and I love Carol. Then I tried two more local vets, and Reading Animal Clinic said to bring her right in. They whisked her in the back and when the nice vet came out to tell us it was a bee sting, and that her little eyes were puffing up too, we all cheered. Steroid shot and benadryl, and all is well. What a scare! 

Oh, puppies.  Puppyhood is tough for all of us!

She has learned how to be a good puppy and self-soothe with toys rather than crying anxiously for help, which I think is the best thing ever. She now has the run of the front room with Ellie (sorry, Ellie!) and for the most part is wee wee pad trained. She is up to 3 whole lbs now, too, so is eating well and growing normally. She loves to snuggle and play at bedtime, but settles in pretty quickly for a good night's sleep. Overall, I think I am the luckiest person in the world to have come across this little lady and have her here. She is a dream! 

A dream that will be fashionable, it seems, as on Friday my work friend Bob left me a massive bag of costumes and clothing for little girl dogs. Every holiday is accounted for, in addition to various weather conditions. She will need her own wardrobe for all this stuff!! I think, now, she might be a bee for Halloween! 

I did manage to move my art piece along this week, still at the stitching stage, and more ideas for some elaborate couching are on deck. It just will take time. I have to accept that new motherhood will have an impact on my art -- though she is great about chilling out when I work, so I really can't blame her. It is more my health that causes delays. Extreme fatigue at the end of the day. So heavy that I don't even eat dinner -- I feed the pets and go to bed. At 6:30! And sleep all night. Or, just high pain levels all over that preempt an evening's work. Sucks, really. It will get better, booked for a Remicade infusion soon, and I hope it will do SOMETHING, even though it seems like it doesn't. 

One foot in front of the gimpy other, I guess! Cheers. 

She is here! She is here! Right now she is playing quietly by herself in her little pen, sitting so she can keep an eye on me as I wake up with a cup of coffee at 5 am. What a doll. As my mother would have said about her, she is a real "doll baby." She weighed in at a stunning 2.8lbs and has captured the love of everyone who has seen her. She trots along by my feet like a little butterfly, is cuddly, is smart, and is just a wonderful puppy. I couldn't be more blessed. She is already using the wee wee pad (most of the time!) and doesn't bark much (yet...) She does bay like a tiny little wolfie when she wants attention and I can't give it to her right away, but that is normal. Hapi will be baying like said wolfie before long. When I think of all that could have arrived on Saturday, and see this canine perfection, I can not help but feel happy. 

Happy? Whaaaat's that? Only sort of kidding, here. The Struggle of Life has been a doozy for the past few years with health and other issues. When Tilly passed the door kinda slammed shut on that feeling, as he was the one who kept me connected to uncontrolled joy. The last little thread of happy in my life. Every time I looked at that dog he would smile back with his eyes and be pure love and joy. Now, I've noticed that I can look at Teddie and the same feeling is starting to creep back into my heart again. She is so little and funny, it is impossible not to feel love for her. She looks at me (and everything) with such amazement and wonder, and has no clue what our hopefully long adventure will look like. I don't either, but am happy to give it a go! My little angel. 

The cats are figuring things out, slowly. Uncle Theo rests by Teddy's pen all day, pretending not to care about the puppy like a Real Cat should, but lifting his head to look if her squeals and yips are louder than normal. He is a mothering kitty who used to clean Seamus when he was a kitten, and I can trust him 100% with the birds. He is wonderful. Seamus, on the other hand, feels like our "pack" has been disrupted and is causing trouble. He ran into the kitchen and bulldozed Theo yesterday in a menacing way, prompting a hissy fit on behalf of both angry cats. Their relationship is tenuous on a normal day, and puppy has rocked the leaking boat. On the bright side, I woke up at 1 am with both cats sleeping on the bed with the puppy, so there is hope! As always, I feel optimistic that the dust will settle and everyone will get along. 

Ellie has started to be stiff and somewhat lame sometimes in her hind quarters. Her vet thinks it is a neurological degenerative problem, with an inflammatory component. She struggles on stairs and stumbles from time to time, and is very stiff upon waking. Like me! She is on a trial of meds (one of which I take, too!) and seems to be a bit more comfortable. Will know when I spend more time with her this weekend. She is nearly 14, and I can't help but fear the worst for my old girl. I want her to live forever as she has been such a good doggie. 

On the art front, things are bustling! STILL working on the current still life piece that I like very much, and hope to get the bead step started this weekend. Really looking forward to that. It needs more surface texture on top of the stitching. I've got a name for the piece now (not telling) and see how future pieces can relate. Love being in this spot. If only I had more healthy time.

I am working with a lovely lady at the Reading Public Library to set up an exhibit there next year. The current series I am making will fit nicely in a library context. If I can get the work done! And, there is the piece for the Norwegian museum I signed up to make based on an important historical weaving, and and and.  Am cutting lots of stencils on the cricut for gelli printing, and have set up a gelli print area in my classroom for kids to explore, too. This week most of the 7th grade is away on a nature-based field trip and the remaining kids are regrouped for nature-related workshops here. I am giving them a crash course in gelli printing with leaves -- and it is a blast! At least for me! Some kids get it right away, others will need more play time. Looks like I will need to start hoarding small bottles of acrylic for the kids to use. So much art, so little time! 

Onward to feeding Ellie da Pug wet dog food by hand (this is a new wrinkle) and of course, giving the baby the hundred kisses she needs every day. Cheers! 

Home from school and do not have my Amazing Ladies for class tonight, so am having a quick cuppa coffee before getting all that needs to be done, done. Quite a list with the puppy coming on Saturday! Boil the water! Get the cigars! Where's my breathing coach? I can't really believe that I am getting another golden opportunity to share my life with a very special dog. Yes, I predict miserable heartbreak at some point on this journey, and am still feeling it whenever I think of my Tilman. Whether I jump in the maltese pool again or not does not bring Til back, though, and I think in a weird way I'm respecting him by doing this again. I learned so much about what not to do with a puppy because of Tilly, and will never ever stop wishing he was right here by my side. Maybe he is, in another dimension, and I'll get to see him again someday. I can't imagine a better eternity than being surrounded by all my fur and feather babies. Sure hope so! Until then, furry white bum on the bed #2 is coming in four days and my heart is starting to get ready and welcome this little love. OMG the cuteness hurts. 

School is off to a really terrific start. I am so, so pleased with the classes this year. Very manageable sizes, which translates to more focus for the kids and better teaching for me. Each class is showing its own personality and so far, all are more than enjoyable. At the end of the day I am exhausted and my legs and feet are miserable, but I have to say I am truly happy and doing what I love to do. The kids are just wonderful. Love every one of them and to have the opportunity to help them discover art is The Best!

On the art front, I am getting my skates back on with my current still life piece, which was supposed to be done over the summer, but has gotten placed on the back burner behind much needed sleep, school, health, and other nonsense. Am on the embroidery stage now, and can't wait to get to the beads! SO many ideas, here. I see where this piece is leading in terms of the next work I make, too...a series is born! Having the ability to make fabric is changing my game and I really do feel like this is a pivotal change in direction, here, that is tying up some loose threads from previous endeavors. Once puppy comes, we will spend time together stitching and playing, simultaneously! Wait...can I stitch and cuddle her at the same time? 

So soon after seeing Squeeze so many times in August, which was heavenly, a truly unbelievable musical opportunity has shown up in the form of Marc Almond playing the Paradise in Boston. The last time I saw Marc sing was when I went to London to do just that, and saw five of six sold out performances at a little club in Islington. It was amazing, emotional, and brilliant, and I have no doubt that this will be the same. I've driven to Philly and NYC to see him over the years and have not regretted any of the travel -- he is that good. A legend. I can not believe he is coming here and will actually grace the stage in Boston. Get out the tissues, his voice is the most emotional and beautiful sound for the soul. A real diva / torch singer / vocal musician. I can not wait. I keep pinching myself and thinking it is a dream that he is coming! 

Add to this that I recently completed a restructuring of my finances to allow for a less stressful life and better tax status. A life reset, really. New puppy, new art, Marc Almond, wonderful job -- if only I could get new legs! Guess that would be greedy! Cheers. 

Brrrr...chilly! That is me saying this, not Hapi this time. Wonderful sleeping weather, and I made the best use of it. On deck today is getting the house ready for the arrival of The Puppy, Teddie, who will be here in two weeks. It doesn't seem real yet, and while I know I will be thrilled when she arrives, I am still missing my little man. It's been less than three months since he passed and I am still feeling it. I'm sure that Teddie will be a welcome distraction from the loss. She is a beautiful pup! And thanks to my dear friends, she has a lovely ball gown to wear when needed...omg. It is purple. 

On the art front, I am still pecking away at the stitching stage of my current large piece. It is verrrrry different for me and I look forward to the hubub of the start of the school year to wind down so I can really hone in on what it needs. More stitching, and most important, BEADS. Oh, the embellishment possibilities that exist with this one. I can see where this piece will lead to the next, so feel good it is well underway. It is a final piece for the coursework I was supposed to complete over the summer, so it had best get done soon! Yikes. 

Survived another birthday, and have reached the ripe age of 52 now, which for some reason I never thought would happen when I was young. Still seems funny to be in my fifties. My attitude gets younger as I get older, I think. Good old John Denver has said it best, as always...give a listen to Poems, Prayers, and Promises...it's all in there.  The world gets smaller, but it is okay.

The roughness of this past summer taught me a lot about letting go of personal expectations, and trying to focus on keeping the RA in check as best as I can. The start of the school year is always ushered in with an uptick of symptoms, and this is no exception. Examining the visual state of my ankles and ret hot, swollen feet at the end of a day, and evaluating the pain level in my lower extremities throughout the day, I've come to a point that I can't ignore. Walking is hard, now. Every step. All day. Whatever damage has occurred to the soft tissues and joints in my feet, ankles, and knees, and lower legs is making quick jaunts nearly impossible. There, I said it. I can putter in my house, and walk in my classroom (limited steps in every direction, can lean and sit as needed), but walking with fast purpose to get to another classroom, the office, or even exit for a fire drill, is challenging and pain inducing. 

I've made a decision to accept this. Not fight it as I always have, not prove to myself that I was stronger than the pain. Denial isn't working anymore. Along with my birthday comes my RA Anniversary of seventeen years, and I'm quite satisfied that I've been able to hold off on an option like this for so long. 

I am getting a Pee Wee Herman Mobility Scooter to assist me in my speed-required jaunts around the building, and even to get my fat arse to and from school (I hate driving my car 300 steps!) It isn't that I CAN'T walk, it is that it hurts too much most of the time, and this is a solution. I will walk my puppy after school, on a nice long leash so she can run, but I can take my time doing so (unlike trekking around the building, pounding on the concrete.) Hopefully by reducing the pain throughout the day I can conserve a little energy so that my life can have more balance. This "going to bed at 7 thing" is getting very old. Especially when I can't sleep, but the legs are too painful to do anything else. 

And, I need more art time! Lots more! So many pieces to make! Be well.
​

Well, it is here. The final day of summer break. Due to some things that had to get done at the start of this week, I was unable to go to school early to get the classroom set up, and had planned on using today. Sadly (?) we received word that the building would be closed all day today, so I will be able to work from home which is nice. But, here it is, the very end. The beach calls. I might have to listen. 

As expected the summer flew by and I watched all good plans go bouncing by the car window like a tossed piece of litter on the highway.  If I had to grade myself on my fulfilling my summer plans, I'd have to go with a big fat "D" or lower. Good thing I don't have to grade myself, then! As with any failure, there are surprise silver linings, and these are mine: 

a) My house is clean(er). Due to my friends' help and a foot-breaking 48 hours of hell this week, my house is ready for the onslaught of Fall. Sort of, as well as it can be!
b) I learned how to nap without guilt. I've always been a napper, but with inner reservation. This summer, after starting it off with a hospital stay, I had no choice but give into the restorative power of sleep. I literally had no choice, and have learned to actually savor the ability to spend quality time with Ellie da Pug doing what she loves best (besides visiting her doggie friends, that is.) 
c) My Patreon is not gone or forgotten, just on hold. Not the right time to do that yet, if I want to do it right. That's okay. 
d) I didn't do enough art this summer, and that has to be alright. I love the piece I am working on, but I have to accept the limitations life threw at me this summer. It will be back on track soon, and there are many ideas in the pipeline following the current piece. Small steps forward are still steps. 
e) I learned my favorite thing to do on the beach. I have my chair, my English paper piecing bag, and my cluster of seagulls facing Hampton's ocean during the late afternoon through sunset. Heavenly. Add to it my paper piecing at bedtime and I might someday have a quilt on my hands! Or lap.
f) SQUEEZE! Having four local shows to attend is a luxury awarded to few. Thank you, my angels, for this joy. 
g) I faced the moment that I've been dreading for years -- losing my best canine pal has hovered over my head like a black cloud. What would I ever do without his little joyful self in my life?  Just knowing I survived this loss makes me realize I am tougher than I think - no drama, here, just this dog was extremely important to me. And now "IT" has happened and is over. And...
h) Sometimes a puppy helps. Just like when food is unappetizing after being ill, the thought of a new puppy seems impossible after losing one so special. But then the heart gets hungry again, and needs a place to throw all that love that has nowhere to go without the lost cherished pet. Coming soon...the whole mixed bag experience of a new bundle to love. Will never be my Tilman, but she will be her own adorable self. 
i) Forgiveness matters. I was thrown for a major loop recently when I found out something that revealed a betrayal by the people closest to me. It was devastating to experience this. I do know, though, that  holding on to that sense of devastation and throwing away friendships in spite isn't the way to go. 
j) I am looking forward to a new school year, with terrific kids and all the fun, creativity, and challenges they bring.  We only have about 182+/- days to do this -- game on! 

That's enough self reflection on this summer. The end. Cheers and happy creating, peeps!

Have been working on a new piece, and as always, it is an abstract reflection, or maybe a shadow, of what is happening in my life.  I start with an idea that is somehow compelling and develop it with layers and layers of choices, winnowing the idea down to what it needs to be for me to be happy with it. Not an easy or short process. It feels good to be engaged in a big piece again, in any art again, after the recent couple of months. This piece is different than anything I've ever done, which intrigues me. Whether it is genuine growth of more selfish delusion is yet to be seen. I will sequester to chambers today to hopefully finish machine stitching it so I can go deep with embellishment. 

I was expecting to be shattered like glass when Tilly died. Instead, the large block of marble that I am cleaved under the heavy blow, leaving large chunks of person all over the place. It hasn't been pretty. Maybe it is that my health has been less than marvelous this spring and summer and I am feeling weaker than normal, or maybe my sense of normalcy was dependent on my little furry soul-kid.  The daily routines of caring, loving and protecting a little animal like a maltese are so deeply ingrained. Many people can't understand this, and at this point I don't expect anyone to. Simply put, that dog made me, me. Because of how he made me laugh every day, and because he smiled back and made my life full of love and joy. And lots of frantic worry at times, can't deny that at all. So much love and daily joy, though, that having that ripped away at the moment of his death was like having a duct tape band aid ripped off my heart. A lot of me went with him. And I don't feel right, or like myself, without my little boy pup. 

Time heals all and I expect this to become more manageable too. It has only been a little over a month. It has been a miserable month, though, filled with sudden jags of breathless tears that come on like tropical showers and leave me dumbfounded at their power. Two steps forward, one step back, and on the back steps, I'm better staying in my house alone not peopling. 

A couple weeks ago, I started looking at Maltese available through adoption and rescue. Just looking, I thought. Ellie da Pug is clearly depressed. When I go back to school she will be alone all day, and I worry about her longevity in this situation. I found no doggies that could live with cats and other dogs under the age of 9 that didn't have medical problems. This led me to look at puppies. Not to ever replace my Tillman, but to ease the pain of the loss. You can't be bawling and feeling like a cracked statue with three pounds of white fluff is kissing your face. Yes, I am desperate for relief from this Maltese-free environment. They are little joy machines. 

My neighbor Anne suggested a puppy weeks ago when she saw me not moving on the wa
y I wish I could have. I declined the idea, facing thoughts of betrayal to my pup. But with school coming and the thought of Ellie in a house without canine companionship on the immediate horizon, my sense of duty and irreverent living kicked in. Yesterday morning, I committed to a 9 day old maltese puppy in Pennsylvania, and thanks to another great frien
d who agreed to help shuttle the fuzzy muffin up here, it is rather doable. So, here is to Teddie, a little girl who will be about 4-5lbs and will be my next canine antidepressant. I really have no clue how else to resolve this discomfort and unsettledness except with loving another dog. Sorry universe and world!  End of September she will be here, probably making me wish I never ever did this until she settles into being a lovely trained adult. Pray for us all. ! 

N



​Last night Tim and I went to my Happy Place, Hampton Beach, at sunset. It was beautiful. Very few people on the shoreline, the entire space bathed in a warm, orange glow. It was perfect -- with humid (but cool) air creating an ethereal fog. I stood for a minute ankle deep in the frigid water, looking at the expansiveness of the empty sea and sky, and just thought of how much I loved my dog. Just let myself think about it. I talked to him in my head, and told him the same things I told him when I held him in my arms as he was passing. I put a small bit of his ashes into the ocean and watched as they were pulled into the sea by a retreating tide. I prayed that my sadness would go with them.  Hoping my silly ritual helps in some small way. We humans really don't know a thing about life and death at the end of the day, do we? Now whenever I visit my special place and look out to the ocean, it is that much more special. 

The art I am working on has to do with the supposed appearance of things and the supposed permanence of what we think of being our lives. What an illusion. It is based on a still life photo of several small objects in my home that I set up on a bookcase in my bathroom because I liked them. I saw them every day, and they became a regular part of my surroundings. Organized. Complete. The setting of my story. I photographed them and transformed them into a fabric piece, all the while thinking about why in a sort of unconscious, nebulous way. There will be hand stitched text in this piece, and it is coming together. Sort of a "still life," sort of not. 

And then, the (un)expected happened. My books became too heavy and the little curio bust was knocked to the floor. It's base cracked and flaked apart. The order I got used to proved itself to be a temporary one, and while I rescued the statue and I can still keep it, it is not the same and never will be. 

See where I am going with this? Hopefully, the piece will relate all of this when complete.  Until them I am letting it bob in the waves of my unconscious and trying to just push forward and get the darn thing done. ​Cheers!

Thank you, thank you, thank you...to everyone that has been so kind to me as I come to terms with the loss of my little white puppy. To some it is a simple, expected loss, but as I have known it would be for his entire life, losing his little spark in my life was like losing an essential part of myself. It's been a "two steps forward, one step back" sort of process, and each day gets a little better. Focusing on trying to play catch up for the rest of the summer will keep me busy enough, but I have to be prepared to acknowledge the "punch in the throat" feeling that comes from time to time. I can't thank my friends and family enough for the support they've given during That Week from Hell (losing Til and being hospitalized) -- talk about difficult. Am trying to put a good spin on things now, so that good things will follow. Very relieved all of this took place during vacation.

It feels like school is right around the corner, now, and there is a lot to do before then...including...drumroll...

Launching my Patreon! It might end up looking like an artistic Girl Scout Cookie stand, but I am aiming for authenticity, and am trying to develop "art things" that patrons would actually like and be able to use. It is challenging to know what people might like to receive in return for patronage, and I am sure the tiers will develop over time to be more varied and appropriate. My biggest challenge is making a welcome video as I am not gifted with moving images (!) and abhor my own appearance on film of any sort. If this is created, expect to see lots of animals moving around, and lots of still images of my work. I am sequestering myself to Caffe Nero almost daily to work on this and am optimistic that it will be a fun sandbox to for me and others to play in. 

​
One big part of the Patreon will be an exclusive Facebook group for members to share their work, their ideas, their creative problems, and find support for their creative ideas (and lack of therin.) I can not teach much more in person due to the physical limitations of Arthuritis, so am hoping that a "Virtual Classroom" might work as an adjunct to my artistic life. I will be posting ideas and resources to the page and hope to cultivate a community of like minded artists, textile and otherwise.  Other tiers include monthly calendars featuring curated sets of links to artists' work and/or creative ideas to try, digital art images, and more.  Maybe even the occasional webchat or webinar lesson. The biggest challenge I have so far is finding ways of getting images of my art on the Patreon page itself. On my "to-do" list. 

I was shooting for an August 1 start, but it will be more likely be September 1, if I want to make sure things are ship-shape. As always, I expect life to get in the way. It always seems to do that! 

I would LOVE to hear from people about the types of things they would like to see as Patreon "things" from me -- what would be meaningful to receive for pledges? Physical things? Digital Things? It is new territory for me, and many artists.

Amanda Palmer, Queen of Patreon, has written about finding that place in yourself where it is ok to "Take the Donut" -- accepting things from others -- and finding value in what you do as an artist. I find this very hard to do, so starting a Patreon is extremely challenging in this regard. We shall see...

​Cheers!

Summer feels like it is really here, now. The front, side, and back yards are embarrassingly overgrown with weeds and grassses, and the air conditioners are running overtime, trying to keep up with the humidity.  It is green, hot, hazy, and damp. I pull the new long curtain across the window in what was an art room in my house, and now is a bedroom, and I take another nap. Too hot to do anything else, and the pain feels worse in humid weather.  Sadly I feel like the great build up of positive motivation I had as school drew to a close got kneecapped.  Grief is real, folks, even for a dog. Especially for a dog. 

Today, though, I pushed myself to be productive. I organized and submitted my preliminary classwork for the second module in the School of Stitched Textiles course. Later than I thought I would, but then again, everything is later these days. I finally am feeling physically better, back to my "normal" (meaning still in lots of pain, but not "sick" with other problems.) This is my first free week of summer. I "should" be going deep into a new piece of art, taking the time I never have all school year to develop meaningful work that I care about, that challenges me and helps me understand and survive in my world.

This is hard to do with my heart living in a very sunken state. The reality of no more Til, ever, is hitting home now that the chaos and distraction of a hospital stay is behind me. I dreamed that he was still alive and felt so much happier in the dream, then woke up only to realize he was long gone, out of reach, into infinity and beyond. This gave way to a brutal cry that was hard to control. I know it's going to hit me from time to time, and that grief circles around with a mind of its own. I know logically about grieving loss and have done so many times in the past, but am very shocked at the sense of loss I am feeling. Most of the time my logical self prevails, but grief can be irrational. He very well could be the last little dog I'll ever have, and that thought both scares and reassures me. It is weird. 

Yesterday Hapi started barking like Tilly, then said "Till..." and stopped. He has howled like Tilly did when I closed the door and left for work in the morning, and recently even has brought up some of the dearly departed Toby sounds, too. He recreates the sound and feeling of my little complete family, which will never be the same again. Ellie just moves from room to room with me, laying down near my feet, and quickly falls to sleep. She doesn't really seem to mind being alone. Everything changes, my logical brain reminds me, and things can't be the same forever. All while my broken heart begs to hold my little pup one more time. 

I think about next steps. Continuing to get used to the lack of endorphins that surely were created every time I looked at Tilly, let alone interacted with him. Giving myself space to have one less creature to care for and worry about. Try to work on the medical bills left behind from the experience of having a little fella with a bad hip, rotten teeth, and a liver shunt. Try to be mature about this and not see it as a major life issue. People lose dogs all the time and it sucks, we know it. Don't dwell. 

Or, I briefly let my brain wander to think about getting a new puppy to care for, so that Ellie won't be alone in the fall, so that I can feel that happiness again. Then I realize that this is selfish too, as I question my ability to care for another dog for its lifetime due to the medical problems present in my own.  And, I don't want rebound-puppy, as that is very unfair to all concerned -- and I don't know how any dog could compare to Tilly. I looked online at older rescue dogs, and was put off with the medical needs they seem to come with. Eventually I did look online at puppies and felt relieved when they were way out of my price range. Decision making not needed. Back to trying to get used to life without my little furry prozac. 

I better go outside and pull some weeds.  My eyes are leaking again. 

Getting there. Without warning the predictable path of my summer, including carefully scheduled weeks of classes and big lofty creative goals, rose to the sky and went "Pop!" last week. I am still assessing the damage, and also seeing the effects of massive help from my best friends.

On June 25, my beloved Tilly passed away. Those who know me and my pets know that Til was the most special of them all. We have been through thick and thin together, and just looking at that little ragamuffin would lift my spirits and bring true joy. A hundred times a day. Those little eyes held such conversations with me, and the one kiss on the cheek he infrequently gave out was a true delight. Yes, he was 15. Yes, I should have expected it. Instead, I feel like I've lived on eggshells for the last year knowing he could go at any moment, and just praying he wouldn't suffer.  And knowing how much I would when it was his time. 

He seemed a bit confused on 6/24, sort of weak after a bout of tummy trouble. Woke on 6/25 to find him in a puddle and not trying to get out of it. Made a vet appointment and despite the efforts of The World's Best Vet, Dr. Carol couldn't pull off a miracle. His little heart was slowing down, he was staring off into space. I could feel kim leaving.

He took a large part of me with him that I will never see again.  At least he did not seem to be suffering or in terrible pain, and it was quick rather than a long illness. I suppose we can't ask for more. The pain of losing him though is very terrible, and while I am getting used to a house without him, I will never be used to my heart being without him. 

On June 28 I woke at 1:30 am with a swollen elbow that felt like it was on fire. Bright red, extremely painful. Put an ice pack on it and waited to see what would happen. Went to Winchester ER, got ATB's. Couldn't tolerate them, ended up in Lahey (a much better hospital, IMHO!) for five days. Cellulitis, septic bursitis. Brutal experience. 

As I sat in my uncomfortable hospital bed, fighting with layers of blankets to stay warm enough when the chills hit and cool enough when they left, I cringed at thinking of the messy state of my house. I am disorganized and lately not able to keep up with everything that needs doing. RA has been out of control, and general life has been, well, busy way beyond my available energy supply. I left things around the house that shouldn't be left. I was assured it was okay by my friends that always make me feel like things are okay, even when I know they aren't.

I imagined my good friends going in to help with the animals and thinking that they were entering a crime scene in the movie "Seven." My pals would say "No problem" on the phone, stepping up to feed the flying dinosaurs in addition to the cats, guinea pig, and now just one little elderly dog. Neighbors making chicken and rice for her. My three pals coordinating who was visiting when to help out, despite their own extremely busy lives in which they are overwhelmed, too. 

Feeding the pets was not all they were doing. 

When I came home on July 2, Tim had said "You aren't going to believe this," and he was right. My dear, dear friends had pitched in and cleaned every room of my house. Organized all my stuff - something I have a terrible time doing. Boxed things, bagged things, moved things, and cleaned things. Every piece of clothing hanging on the back of my bathroom door (oops...but I do that) or found elsewhere, along with linens, brought to a cleaner and washed & dried or dry cleaned, hanging on a new clothing rack. New towels and a new bathmat greeted me in the bathroom, along with a tub that sparkled. Because my bedroom is upstairs and the bathroom downstairs, I face a fall risk every night...and they fixed that, too. They put a really nice twin bed in the art room right next to the bathroom, under a homasote design wall (feels so studio-living, mannn). New sheets, pillows, the works. The old, barely working ac's were replaced with new ones, and lots of really hard-to-do yard work was done. The refrigerator was stocked, there was plenty of water. Everywhere I looked things were orderly, clean, and organized.

I cried. 

Unfortunately I am extremely stubborn and HATE receiving help. I try so hard to be self-sufficient that I feel any kind of help means I am "less than able" and "less than acceptable." Just the way I am.  Having RA with the looming threat of disability can make me want to be superhuman, I guess.  Works fine until you are feverishly locked in a hospital room with a large area of bright red cellulitis spreading around your abnormally hot and swollen elbow, praying that the infection doesn't spread to the bloodstream, wondering how the hell you are going to clean up the house when you get home with an arm that won't bend or work right. And thinking of your deceased pup. Not a happy place to be. Did I mention that I had to cold-turkey stop prednisone, when I've been on it for literally years? 

Thankfully Tim was off work this week, and so kindly helped me feed the birds, pick up stuff at the store, and check in on me for the first couple days. I needed his help. It is so hard to need help from others to care for the parrots. I see them as a luxury, and choice, on my part -- not someone else's problem. To have friends that cared for them made me extremely grateful.  

To have friends that also cared for me enough to give up their weekends and give me a "domestic restart" after a hospital stay is overwhelming to say the least. I do not know what I can do or how I can ever properly thank these amazing people who did this. Their generosity is beyond belief. I still can't believe it. My amazing art friends sent beautiful flowers, and my sister visited with candy, and I know there were many people concerned "fighting" this infection with me. I thank you all, so so much.

Now it is July 5th, and I am here, figuring out what to do next. I broke down and restarted prednisone today, and the side effects of an abrupt stop in taking this wicked drug are slowly receding. Am hoping that tomorrow I will be strong enough to really feel better, to not feel like I did today. Getting itchy to get back to the artwork, which is a good sign, I suppose. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, and this:

"It’s an insane world but in it there is one sanity, the loyalty of old friends." Ben-Hur

Limped to the finish and now summer is officially here! A busy summer filled with classes for kids, and classes for adults, both here and at Artists and Craftsmen in Saugus during the slow days of August. And, hopefully, lots of time for me to indulge in some deep art time. Yum on that! 

This has been a physically challenging year for me. My feet HAVE failed me now, and along with disc issues in my lower back, the only position that is truly comfortable (i.e. minimal pain) is laying down. Even then my feet throb sometimes so I have to get up and stretch. I was talking to a very wise and kind friend last week who suggested I look at how I am managing my energy. She suggested - gasp - that I might NOT have to go through the entire work day banging around on concrete with basically broken and inflamed feet and sore legs, thereby, possibly, letting me hold on to enough energy and brain cells to have a life when I get home. On too many days this year I've had to get off my feet too soon after getting home, and "carrying" constant pain around is plain exhausting. Having no reserve adds to the domestic chaos in which I live, too. In the discussion with my friend, the idea of a  - gulp - wheelchair, for work and any other time I have to walk more than the dogs can handle, came up. I won't lie, I cried.  Just a bit, then she began pointing out all the ways it might help me catch a break from the constant pain and focus energy on other things.  

As anyone with RA can tell you, the first research factoid you find online after diagnosis is that 50% of patients end up not being able to work in 5 years. The next is that you will end up in a wheelchair. The next fact, that I have been forced to question, is that due to the new Wonder Drugs (called Biologics), this rarely happens anymore. I've been optimistic despite "burning through" all the biologics on the market. I'm still working, loving what I do, and walking.  Despite the fact that every day is filled with miserable pain.  Will be celebrating the 17th year of internal combustion this August. 

Imagine that feeling when you've dropped something heavy on your foot. Now imagine dropping it on both feet, and then having the pain not fade away. Ouchies.  The brain learns to use distraction as a pain management tool, but it is exhausting. I've reached a point where I am just so, so tired of carrying all this pain around I need to do something. My good friend got me thinking. maybe she is right? 

I want to be a better teacher, I want to be a more productive artist. I want to spend less time prone and more time living. As I might have written before, my dear Dad had something that was labeled "migratory arthritis" (which is not a "thing") and had multiple lower back issues, as did my Mom. I watched him become unable to take more than a few steps without pain and gradually became someone who laid down and watched tv all the time. I hate tv and can't do this! 

So, at my appointment with my rheumy yesterday I got another healthy wallop of solumedrol iv and had The Discussion about Mobility Aids. My doctor thought it was reasonable to consider at this point, and gave me some pointers as to how to go about it. She thought a scooter or electric chair would be best, even if it isn't covered by insurance (which it won't be because I do not have an upper spinal injury.) A manual chair might be covered, but she said it will take six or more months and several tries with the insurance as they do not like to authorize them.  She said also with RA my wrists, hands, and shoulders are vulnerable to damage. 

I am trying to see this as not a last-ditch effort, as in "I'm IN a wheelchair now." I am going to try to look at it as though it might just help me do more than struggle with pain. I've often thought of going to the museum but said "No way" when looking down at my feet. Or to Hampton. Or or or. During the day, having it on hand might save my feet steps and reduce the abuse they take all day long. I am afraid of losing conditioning due to using one, but do not see me using it all the time or so often that this will happen. Just distance walking, I think, or blocks of back-to-back classes at school that keep me on my feet for hours. 

So, the "invisible disability" (which is very visible to me every day before I put on my shoes) may now become a little bit more visible.  It is scary, and for some reason embarrassing, as I feel a little bit like I am "giving up" in not letting this freaking disease control my life. But, it is also a little relieving, as it has been a tough year. Yes, as we get older we all get aches and pains, but this is much more than that, and I have to learn new ways of dealing with it.  

Some art blog, huh? It is what's on the mind, and has to be dealt with. Now, on to a busy day thanks to the solumedrol. Bless you, steroids, bless you. Maybe they will kick in and all of this will be nonsense by tomorrow morning.  A girl can dream!