So. When you barely leave the apartment for two months (and still counting) due to a stupid virus that refuses to go away, you quickly run out of things to say.
So I'll just share a photo instead. Some time ago, I started a thread on my Facebook page where I intended to post photos of all the remarkable women in our history. I quickly learned that if I intended to include all the remarkable women, that list would be unending! Here is but one of them.
Wilma Mankiller: Native activist and first woman principle chief of the Cherokee tribe. I believe she was also a runner up with another phenomenal women; Harriet Tubman, to have her image placed on the new $20 bill that the current administration hasn't bothered to getting around to printing.
Stay healthy my few readers! Hang in there, better days are ahead!
J.
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Sunday, April 12, 2020
Lock Down
Think of this as a worldwide social experiment to show once
and for all how connected we all are. We
are now seeing first hand just how well – or poorly – society functions when we
all must stay six to eight feet apart from each other.
There are already all sorts of experiments demonstrating
that times of heightened stress (or even just uncertainty) are the times that
we seek out others to be with the most.
And, well. See above regarding needing
to keep a certain amount of physical distance between ourselves and everybody
else for an undefined length of time.
I would rather refer to this current social practice as “physical”
distancing, not “social” distancing. To paraphrase
what I recently heard a therapist who specializes in anxiety disorders
say: You can still have that
conversation with your neighbor. It will
do wonders for that anxiety. Just don’t
be right up in each other’s’ faces when you do so.
Oh, sure. There is
Face Book. E-Mail. Face time things like
Zoom and such. Even a two word
text: “I’m bored” is a way of reaching
out. But I am a little anti-tech, much
to the amusement/ chagrin of my family.
I’m much more intrigued, inspired even, by the old school ways people
are using to stay connected. An old custom
in Italy is being revitalized. People
are lowering food baskets from their balconies.
On its way down (and presumably back up again) neighbors are donating
what they can or taking what they may need.
When not doing that, they are singing from their balconies to entertain
each other.
In this country, and surely elsewhere, those that used to
drive tourists around in horse drawn rides are now hitching up their animals to
take supplies to area folks in need.
This also gives the opportunity for both human and horse to get out and
get a little exercise. Bonus.
But it is not just physical health we need to be mindful
of. How are you looking after your
mental health in these strange times?
My employer finally managed to get at least some of us set up
to work from home. Not having to worry
about the when or where of my next paycheck is amazingly wonderful. But, full
disclosure: the days are starting to run together a bit. I have two crochet projects and a pitch to
put together to another book publisher.
Somehow, though, I am having a hard time staying motivated
to do those things. Yesterday was the first time I left the apartment grounds in a week.
My hands are raw from all the washing.
I have had to remind myself to take a shower. It feels like it will always be like this:
dry hands. Having things delivered as much as possible. The boredom of long weekends without much to
do besides clean. My cat is the most
wonderful cat ever, but she’s not much of a conversationalist.
It feels like it will go on like this forever – but it won’t. Experts are saying that what we’re doing now
is working. We just got to keep it up
for a while yet to make sure it keeps working.
There is an end date, but it is just not clear when it will be.
In the meantime, I’ll look out at the springtime trees
blooming. Count the days until it will
be time to fill the hummingbird feeder, continue to have one-sided talks with my fur
child and rely on Facebook, texts and emails to keep up with family until we
can hang out in person. I’ll drag out
yarn and hook – and maybe experiment with lowering a basket of flowers to my
neighbor below me. :)
What about you?
Saturday, March 14, 2020
Self-Care
So. This was meant to
be a monthly blog. I already missed one: February. And February was Turner’s Syndrome Awareness
month. Talk about dropping the ball….
But things got away from me as they sometimes do. Among other things, last weekend I did a book
signing event again with satisfying results for Short Chick with Glasses: life
beyond Turners Syndome (shameless plug number 10)
I also participated with other warriors in lobby day at the
state capitol. It was my first time, and
for those of you that have never done it: wear good shoes. It was a long day of walking throughout the
capitol to meet with state senators and representatives or their staff to
encourage them to support or oppose certain pieces of legislation being
considered this session. When it was
finally time to get back in the van and head home, one of the organizers
pointedly asked “what are your plans for self-care tonight?”
And now I ask you:
In this world that seems to have gone insane: what are you
doing to make sure you get the care you need?
Are you making plans like I am to unplug and detach the rest of the
night? Did you reach for water or tea
instead of a soda? Finally going to make
that appointment for that physical first thing Monday morning?
Whatever you do in the way of self-care, make sure you do
plenty of it. You are needed in this
insane world. And you are needed
healthy, whole, and ready to fight for whatever cause you care so deeply about
that you sometimes lose yourself in it….
Sunday, January 19, 2020
Valuable
This month’s installment is about something that affects us
all in the Turner’s community and many women that do not have Turner’s: infertility.
If you have read my book, Short Chick with Glasses, thank you
for the support. If not, it is available
on Amazon, or catch me at one of the book signing events I’m hoping to set up
this spring. (Shameless plugs. Gotta
love ‘em.). In those memoirs I related that
I have been through it all accepting my “no biological children” sentence: the
anger at the unfairness, the wondering WHY I had to be born different. The now not so secrete fears that no man
would want me once he found out.
Indeed, I felt just about every emotion a person will feel when forced
to accept something that is just…crap.
Then I realized something.
I was spending enough time lamenting a life that I saw everybody else
having – mourning a life that I could not lead - that I was in danger of
completely missing the life that I was leading.
And it is a good life, all in all. I have friends. I am lucky enough to have good relationships
with my family. A job where I am in some
small way helping people. A cat that needs
me to come home and feed her after that job.
I enjoy music, a good laugh; and instinctively stand up for the “little
guy.”
Do my parents love my sister more because she provided them
with three grandchildren and the best I could come up with is a “grand-kitty?” Of course not. That very thought is ridiculous.
(I’m the favorite, always have been)
I am not able to spread my genes or continue the family line
– but nobody gets to tell me that the life I have is of lesser value because of
it. And if I someday adopt, nobody gets to tell me that the relationship won't be as meaningful because I did not birth the child myself. NOBODY.
And that includes myself.
So, go ahead and acknowledge those moments of sadness when
you see others celebrating a birth. Acknowledge
it, but don’t wallow in it. There are
many paths to happiness. Be open to the infinite paths your life can take.
Be well,
J
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