Listening

I spend a lot of time listening to frogs and crickets, to birds and waves, to the air conditioner and the air cleaner, to the shower and dishwasher, to the click of knitting needles or keyboards. But, I also spend a lot of time listening to voices - people talking around me. I don't seem to talk a lot any more.

As a friend said last night, I feel like an outsider. I will occasionally share my story, some pain, some funny, but not often. Conversations swirl around me without my really being a part of them. Sometimes they are about things with which I have no experience or knowledge - remembrances of camp or private schools or vacations or friends and playtime. Sometimes, the conversation flows along at a pace that I don't want to interrupt, jumping from one person to another to another with each person spurring their vocal horses to get into the minute piece of silence that signals another person can talk. Getting into those spaces is near impossible for me. So, I ride along on the edge listening to others talk about their lives. Almost a part, yet not really.

Last night I thought about the conversation - dreams of going places, doing things, plans for the future. Others have those - I don't seem to have any plans or dreams. I feel as though I'm just existing for a while. I knit, I've learned to crochet, I work a few hours a week, I do laundry, I clean house a bit, and I will be starting yoga next week. I have no need or use for the things I make. I buy yarn and I learn - for what? I don't even know. I'm just existing here for a while.

I have no desires that aren't fulfilled. I could wish to feel better; I'd like to ride my jet ski more, to kayak more. But, I have no long term goals or hopes or dreams or plans. Life is just flowing along.

Sometimes when I listen to conversations, I feel as though life is flowing around me and gently carrying me along with it like a piece of driftwood that slips along the edges of the river - not part of the current but moving still, immersed in the busyness of getting to the mouth of the river, but not going very quickly. The driftwood bobs along and lets the faster current get their first.

I think somehow in the last few years, I've retired from the hustle and bustle of living. In the process, I've also retired from some essential part of life, but I can't figure out what that is. I've bought things for enjoyment and use, but most days they are meaningless. Maybe that's what's missing - meaning. Like, where do I go from here?

sharecropper to driftwood

Retreat

Had to leave the retreat - aching and couldn't breathe. Think part of it is being with a number of unknown church women in a group. I love Margaret Neill who is leading the retreat - think I said she used to be my spiritual director. We began the morning with making a joyful loud noise to God! And, I lost my voice, couldn't breathe, hurt just sitting in the chairs.

Gripe, gripe, gripe.

I am truly grateful that I got a hug from Margaret, that I got to eat lunch not fixed by me, that I met some of my partner's friends from church, that it is a beautiful sunshiny day, that I have air conditioning and a nebulizer, that I could leave the workshop and drive only a mile to be at the condo and a comfortable bed, that .....

so, my gratitude is overflowing. So is my need to sleep.

Breathing

Breathing is important to one's mental and physical health. When I worry, I don't breathe very well; I hold my breath and then gasp. When the humidity is high or the wind is blowing, I don't breathe well. So, I'm sitting here breathing - in and out. Sometimes a sigh to catch up.

The workshop trip is over, the file cabinet is in place in my workroom, therapy is over for the week, grocery shopping is coming up next today, and I'm digesting a wonderful lunch of Taco Bell tacos. Now is my time to catch my breath and change my internal tension level.

A couple pieces of good chocolate have helped, too.

I'm busy making coasters and pot holders for a knit exchange, finishing a baby hat for a soon-to-be-born girl (she probably won't wear this until the end of the year in Mississippi), continuing to knit a market bag, and occasionally working on a hat for the Seaman's Institute (hard yarn - feels like indoor-outdoor carpet - supposed to be waterproof when I'm finished and likely will). Oh yeah, I'm also working on a shawl for a friend and will then begin another one in a different colorway.

Partner has spruced up the outside of the house while I was away - got the front flower bed looking great and the back latticework painted.

We're going to a religious retreat this Wednesday at the beach - tough life - I hope we're meditating on blessings because I feel truly blessed. I really don't want to think about what God may be calling me to do or to care for the poor, the hungry, the homeless, etc. Let me just meditate on God's goodness for a bit. I don't want to think about new starts or old endings or how they fit together. I want to focus on the here and now and just be grateful. Mother Margaret Neill, who is leading the retreat, will choose what she believes we need to hear - and it will be good.

This is the potholder that my exchange partner Micki sent me - a delightfully thick one - and she really thinks it might see a pan - ha - it will be pinned on my workroom wall to remind me of how far I have to go in crocheting.

Flickr workshop pix

Flickr Pisgah workshop pix here

Excitement

And, not the best kind either. The fire alarm went off about 8 pm and people were scurrying out, finding the stairs, getting outside. First, of course, most of us had to put on some clothes - and you could tell that we just grabbed the handiest things - at least many of us.

Three fire trucks arrived - one a ladder truck since this hotel is 5 floors. Fully outfitted firemen rushed from the trucks into the building...just like in the movies or on TV...I guess, since I don't see much of either of those.

And, we waited and waited. We saw firemen walking from one end of the building through the lobby to the other. We saw the desk clerk running from the front desk to the back office. We waited.

Someone said it was on the fifth floor. Someone said they were on the fifth floor and they didn't smell anything. Someone said they were cold (and yes, I realize that someone should be followed by a singular pronoun, but this is easier). We sat on a damp low wall. Some read, some talked on their cell phones. Some had briefcases; some had purses; some late arrivals tried to go inside. Some laughed and continued their conversations about other things. One man pushed his son around and around in a wheel chair.

After slightly more than a half hour, the firemen came out and said we could all go back to our rooms. Some of the firemen were still inside, and many of us thanked them for their response. Some just walked by silently and coldly.

But, I was back in my room, picking my knitting up from the floor and thinking that I ought to keep my medicines close to my purse when I'm away from home. Car keys, ID, money, medicine, room key - handy in case I need them again.

Now to calm down and think about bed.

Last day at Peaches & Creme home

Now in Winston-Salem, left Old Fort around noon and with much regret. I saw Maile and Marian, Sharon, Eileen, Marie, Bill and Janice at the P&C store this morning. Ahhhh. And, Maile was talking about new patterns and test knitting and Christmas already. So, I'm really looking forward to seeing the upcoming things from her creativity.

Some of us had fun digging in the seconds bin - bits and pieces, whole balls and lots of tangles because we'd all been digging. But, what a steal! I left with a stretchable garbage bag full and overflowing this morning with everything.

I'll be posting more pix from the workshops when I get permission from the participants, but for now, the pix at the top is a creek that runs near the Pisgah factory and the view from where the workshops were held.

more about workshop

Just a couple of pictures from today's knitting workshop. Don't have program to edit pix on this computer; so just getting raw stuff. LOL The Pisgah outlet store was lots of fun, my trunk is full.



Maile doing the loop-de-loop cast-on - so named by Kim.














Beautiful Flo in the shawl that someone made her - maybe Brian?

Workshops

Flo at Peaches & Creme is a honey. She organized great workshops and pulled together everything so well.

The morning began early on the top of the mountain at the fire station...about 60 women and a few men gathered for knitting, crocheting and weaving. What wonderful chaos! And, such beautiful yarns, I kept oooohhh, and ahhhhhinng over all the gorgeous packets for the various classes.

My first class was weaving, and I learned so much and got a good bit of hands-on time during the day on looms that weren't being used for projects. I chose the packet for a blue scarf, but I didn't start the scarf since I don't yet have a loom and would not finish it before the end of the workshops. I wasn't ready to actually begin weaving, lots to learn beforehand. We created some patterns using graph paper and colored markers. Then we created a pattern using pipe cleaners. I discovered that my graph paper pattern would be difficult to weave for a beginner, but it's very pretty. My pipe cleaner pattern was simple and good looking even if I did use a strip of brown and no (I repeat) no blue. That was fun. I wound bobbins of several kinds and used the floor loom, the table loom, the small knitters loom in practicing.

After lunch, I learned to crochet. Now, mind you, we're talking basic chain and single crochet, but I managed to complete at 2 inch x 3 inch square that mostly looks right - at least as well as everyone else in this class. And, I've been practicing tonight. Now, all my yarn overs are going in the same direction. LOL No twisted stitches for me. My hands still aren't coordinated in holding the yarn, the needle and the crocheted piece; so they cramp after a few stitches, but I'll get there.

I had a break sometime in the morning and walked down the road with my water bottle and enjoyed sitting on a culvert looking out at the beauty and the kudzu. I'll try to take a picture tomorrow - such wonderful green sculptures that devour their infrastructure. Sadly beautiful.

Lunch was great with food brought in from local cafes. I got fried chicken, but the person next to me got pintos and corn bread. She gave me a pinch of corn bread - not sweet. I was beginning to think that people in NC could only make hush puppies or sweet corn bread. This was so good that I stopped at that cafe on my way home and ate pintos and cornbread for dinner.

The final class of the day was knitting for me...a cabled scarf with Maile from Cloth of the Week group. I chose emerald green. The yarn is rayon and not plied - which means that I keep splitting it. I had a hard time even getting it cast onto my needles - so many little strings of rayon - all slippery and beautiful but not doing what I wanted. I was tired; so I quit for the day and brought it all back to the room.

I'll work on one of the projects tomorrow with Maile, but maybe not this rayon. Tomorrow morning I'm going to the Outlet store and look over their reduced table adn choose some wonderful yarns for home projects.

On the way home, I passed what appeared to be a thrift shop - but was actually a junk shop - no order, chaos reigned. Found two large Coca-Cola glasses and a bunch of pieces of old jewelry that I will transform...all for $3.50. Last of the big time spenders.

Now, I'm a zombie, but I still want to knit and keep practicing my crochet, and figure out what I'm going to buy tomorrow at the mill outlet. Ummmm. tough choices. I think bed wins. Goodnight.

Adventurous day

Spent the day in Asheville, NC. Left all my notes and maps here at the hotel. Found the shops anyway. Most of the yarn shops had the same kinds of things that we sell, but I found one shop with some hand spun yarn - beautiful, but I didn't buy any of it - couldn't figure out what I'd do with it - dyeing yarn is not my thing.

Found a wonderful bead and gem store - bought some raw stones - two pieces of opal that I intend to wire wrap for partner and me, and some lovely lapis that the owner claims is not dyed - it's so blue that I suspect color has been added. Also a few other pieces of various stones that I think will make up nicely - one has mica in it and will leave tiny bits of glitter on the skin of the person who wears it, but that's attractive, I think. The stuff was also available without the bits of mica, but not nearly as pretty.

The bead store that used to be a great delight to me was a big disappointment - I didn't find anything neat or really unusual there - lots of seed beads, and I'm not doing seed beads right now.

The Guild shop had all kinds of crafts found in this area and the stuff to make them with - but nothing that really struck me...so I came away from there empty-handed. The bookstore had one thing I wanted - some Medicine cards - sort of like Tarot but using animals and their Native American interpretations.

The downtown area is covered with food places - everyone at table along the sidewalks, but I couldn't find a place to eat that didn't have a wait time of half hour or more. Thought I was going to starve. Ate at a place that specializes in sweets - my cake was a bit dry, the quiche was okay but served plain, but the tea was great...though the refill cost me half the cost of the the first glass.

Lots of shops with Indian or Eastern things - art, clothings, beads, junk.

I came back up the hill through a shoe store - a multi-level shoe store - and I couldn't find a single pair that I could afford. When I reached the top of the hill I was very winded and red-faced. I staggered into a Free-trade shop or whatever they are called, and the shop-keeper took one look at me and pointed to a chair. She offered to get me water, but I had that handy. Thank God for the chair and the rest. Then I bought a few things for stocking stuffers this Christmas.

I rested at a number of places along the way...benches were plentiful. One of the downtown parks appeared to be full of lolling men - all ages, sizes, styles, degrees of good looking, various dress - but all men. The women I saw together or in groups were all walking and looking and talking. these men seemed to be waiting for pick-ups...or something. Maybe they were just taking advantage of shade on a warm humid day.

Many stores downtown were empty. No name brand stores any longer.

When I left downtown, I headed out to the Biltmore area, and I found all the name brand shops. But, I also found Yarn Paradise. And, I spent a long time there - bought my first set of interchangeable circular needles...a large investment. And, I was bragging to one of the women there about the wonderful BBQ ribs I'd had last night. She laughed and said she was the sister of the owner of Countryside BBQ. And, I could see a family resemblance, but she is definitely more beautiful than he is good looking. Too much good food has given him width in the middle to balance his height. LOL Ate there again tonight - still good. Going to eat there again tomorrow. Closed on Monday; so I guess it's Maccy D's for Monday.

One of the interesting things I've noticed is that many yarn companies are now selling their yarns in hanks instead of balls or skeins. This means that the yarn owners have to spend employee time winding these hanks into balls. All except two balls of yarn that I bought were in hanks. That's a lot of payroll dollars that will go into winding instead of sales and stocking.

I brought my inner child along

Well, I'm away from home for five days and already it's wonderful. The hotel has an indoor swimming pool and hot tub, an exercise room, free snacks all day and night and free breakfast. It also has a laundry, a wonderful desk clerk, free bottled water since the water is very hard in these mountains. And, it's wonderfully cooler than beside the creek.

I stopped on the way and visited for an hour with my best friend where we used to live - how great - 5 minutes and we've covered the basics and gotten down tot he nitty gritty of our lives...though it's pretty mundane stuff except for some of those we love having problems. We don't have any problems of our own, you understand (LOL).

Now. I've had dinner at a great restaurant in a tiny town about 45 miles from Asheville and I met three couples who had driven from Asheville just to eat there - BBQ ribs night - and I couldn't even finish a half rack. They were the best ribs I've ever eaten (except for Corky's in Memphis) cooked without sauce and smoked to perfection. They provided a good sweet sauce, but I may have used a half teaspoon of it. Hushpuppies were good and the cocktail sauce that I like with them was tangy but not sinus-clearing. Green beans were cooked just as I like them and the cole slaw was good. The chocolate cake was good but a bit dry.

Then I went to Wal-Mart and bought a pair of supplex shorts and a sports bra, came back and went to the pool. Never mind the rolls of fat hanging out between the two. I mean, whoever here will ever see me again -and do I care anyway - no. The pool was pleasantly cool, but the hot tub was great - not too hot, and the jets placed just right to massage my weary back and legs.

Of course, I couldn't get enough conditioner on my hair to make it feel normal since the water is so hard, but, guess what, the soap came right off. We have such soft water at home that you never feel as if you've gotten all the soap off of you or anything else you've washed.

I just feel as if I'm experiencing camp for the inner child - even if no other children are obviously present. For, mind you, I have not been in a swimming pool since ... ummmm....1979 maybe. Well, I guess I have been in the pool at the condo on the beach - but only briefly because it's cold as ice - shaded beautifully for a hot summer day, but not when I'm there. So, I gave swimming a valiant try - I probably wouldn't drown, but I'm very out of practice. Understatement of the year. At least the kids in the pool didn't laugh at me to my face - and that shows they have manners.

Now, I'm settled in the room, on a chaise lounge with a lap board and the laptop going strong. And, I'm soon to be ensconced in that big fluffy king size bed with lots of pillows.

'Night y'all.

Sigh

Breathe deeply in and out for a few breaths. Close your eyes and relax. However, it's not a good idea to fall asleep while sitting at your computer.

This has been a busy week already. Therapy on Monday - a very difficult session in which I've been suggested that I comfort my inner child who didn't have much of a childhood. The concept of the inner child is a difficult one for me, especially since I have very, very few live memories of three years - 7-10 and not much until 11. Actually, I guess there aren't many memories before age 7 either...a few incidences that are isolated from daily life. I was alone so much of the time.

then Dad went back in service when I was 7. A good bit of responsibility fell on me as my mother and brother made the crop that year - we had 23 acres of great farmland - grew wonderful cotton - usually rated good with a few middling ratings occasionally when we had to use a mechanical cotton picker. I remember things, not daily life, not events. Except, of course, the daily life events at which I failed at age 7 - like cooking dinner for Mom and David, peeing in my pants because I had walked from school to avoid a kid who taunted me and I couldn't get into the back door of the building where Mom worked.

I don't remember feeling. Life just was. Now I'm told that this child never had a chance to have a childhood; she had to grow up too soon. She never got the love and care that she needed, nor the praise or very many of those positive things that keep us going. They tell me that my defiant attitude comes from having to fend for myself and feeling that no one cared. And, they didn't...at least not in ways that I needed them to care. They said they did. They acted as if they didn't.

So, I'm supposed to talk to this child. And, I feel foolish. I would have to dissociate in order to talk to the child I was. I know the right words to say to kids nowadays that have been through some of the lack of loving care that I went through. I can comfort them. But, how do you comfort a child that no longer exists?

I can look at me and say, "I'm sorry you had a rough childhood. You should have had better food, more encouragement,...." But, so should a million other kids who grew up to be fine people without being in therapy and needing food to comfort themselves, or hoarding to make them feel safe. Why am I the one who eats too much?

Tonight Ibought yarn and stuff at the Goodwill Thrift Shop (now called the Goodwill Family Center) - yarn that I don't normally use, all donated by an older woman who was obviously a hoarder. Boxes and boxes of yarn, a hundred packages of needles, various sewing accessories in multiples of twos, threes and tens. I understand.

But, I still don't understand how I'm to talk to or write to this supposed inner child who was deeply hurt (I don't deny that) and carries this hurt yet (don't deny that either). They tell me I deserved better. Deserve is not a word that I use very much...not sure that any of us deserve anything. Lots of things would have made my life better and very different. I didn't have them. Now, I'm supposed to go back and comfort that child who didn't have them.

Maybe all I really have to say to that kid are two things: "It wasn't your fault." (don't think I ever thought it was) and "You made it anyway." (not the best way possible, but you're alive and they are dead - you have received many wonderful things and known oodles of great people - you've done lots of good deeds and loved everybody - that's making it, kid!) Living well is the best revenge. The ones who hurt me didn't live well and some of them are dead as a result of their poor choices; I am living well, and I am alive even though I've made both good and bad choices. You, the child, chose to live; and here we are, living well, blessed and graced.

Off to Work

This is our "stack" of Lambs Pride and Cascade 220 wool with a bit of Lopi at the end. Doncha just love the colors!

You are The Empress

Beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, luxury, dissipation.

The Empress is associated with Venus, the feminine planet, so it represents,
beauty, charm, pleasure, luxury, and delight. You may be good at home
decorating, art or anything to do with making things beautiful.

The Empress is a creator, be it creation of life, of romance, of art or business. While the Magician is the primal spark, the idea made real, and the High Priestess is the one who gives the idea a form, the Empress is the womb where it gestates and grows till it is ready to be born. This is why her symbol is Venus, goddess of beautiful things as well as love. Even so, the Empress is more Demeter, goddess of abundance, then sensual Venus. She is the giver of Earthly gifts, yet at the same time, she can, in anger withhold, as Demeter did when her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped. In fury and grief, she kept the Earth barren till her child was returned to her.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

"My" shop

I don't own it. I don't even work full-time there, only a few hours a month. But, I love Weaver's Webb. And, I love arranging the colors and fibers. I love helping people find what they want. So, I'm starting a series of picture blogs about Weaver's Webb.
Today, we are featuring sock yarn, cottons, and dreambaby.

I love the colors. Or have I said that? I tell people that it's a "touchy feely" store. How can you know whether or not you like a yarn unless you've fingered it?

When we get a shipment of yarn, I usually stay over my normal hours or come in an extra time to help put it away. Some yarn comes in plastic bags, and we ordinarily get two or three bags of 10 skeins each. One bag goes on the shelf with the newer dye lots in the back. Two bags have to be stored, and we don't have a storeroom. All the extra yarn is stacked on top of the racks and around the ledges of the store (you'll see that later). Some yarn, such as Lamb's Pride, is not bagged; so we save our plastic bags from other yarns for storage.

We have so many beautiful sock yarns, and I don't knit socks. I've learned how to knit in the round with two circular needles, but I haven't done but a few rows with sock yarn. We have the Step yarn which has jojoba oil and aloe vera in it to prevent food problems. We have self-patterning yarn which creates a delightful pattern - not necessarily stripes - photos of that later. We have Noro sock yarn which is self-striping. I've bought some of it, but it's in my stash (that's yarn lingo for that wall of plastic drawers in my workroom - and the tub and the various bags of begun projects and the little box by my feet and my work bag). I de-stashed one skein of yarn yesterday - sold it to a young woman who needed just a bit more of a certain color and dye lot, and I had one skein of it here at home. I don't de-stash often.

So now you have an intro to Weaver's Webb, where I work on Tuesdays and sometimes a few hours extra during the week.

States I've Visited

visited 43 states (86%)

visited 7 states (3.11%)
Create your own visited map of The World or determine the next president

Interview questions from RevGalBlogPals

These questions are from an interview of Singing Owl published on the RevGalBlogPals Please go there and read this interview. This is a very interesting blog, and I enjoy being part of it.

Where do you blog?
23 acres of black dirtYou're here.

What are your favorite non-revgal blog pal blogs? Wounded Bird, Pseudopiskie, Badtux

What gives you joy? Music. Water. Silence. Yarn. Love.

What is your favorite sound? Cat purring

What do you hope to hear once you enter the pearly gates? First you have to believe that the pearly gates exist.

You have up to 15 words, what would you put on your tombstone? She lived. She loved. But, I love what we put on Mom's tombstone in the cemetery of the church that kicked me out for dancing and spurned her after she left my Dad: "Dancing with God, drawing deep breaths of the air of Heaven." (She died of emphysema.)

Write the first sentence of your own great American novel. The hurricane was beating against the sliding glass doors, and she hoped that they lived up to their warranty of stability in 160 mph winds.

What color do you prefer your pen? Black

What magazines do you subscribe too? National Geographic, The Sun, Bead and Button, Oprah, Time, Smithsonian

What is something you want to achieve in this decade? Continue living and being alive in that living.

Why are you cool? Because I have white hair and still do daring things.

What is one of your favorite memories? Being introduced to my partner at the lunch counter where we ate and not remembering anything past her holding out her hand and saying, "Hi, I'm ......" Surely, I must have answered, but I do not remember anything except being in love.

Anything else you've always wanted to be asked? How did you get here from there?

Eventide

The sun has set and the glimmer of light caressed the creek and cypress trees. My eyes and the camera were slightly out of focus, but you can see the beauty of this Sunday's eventide.

My Favorite Necklace

This is the Spanish Inquisition Necklace found at the Smithsonian Institute. Dane A Penland is the photographer, and I copped his image from sharing files of Flickr. You can find a rather complete description of the necklace and its jewels and provenance at The Daily Jewel

Once I had a torn magazine page with this picture on the wall near my jewelry-making table. The page is lost, but the memory of this beautiful piece has lingered with me. Wouldn't I love to have an occasion to wear something like this? And, how many body guards would I need to hire. The information says that Audrey Hepburn wore it to the Academy Awards. Ahhhh. A fitting place for such a beautiful piece.

And once I owned a tiny piece of emerald - uncut, about the size and shape of a large splinter. It disintegrated from being handled roughly in so many moves. Ahhh.

I love blue, and here's a picture of the Hope Diamond, also at the Smithsonian and also photographed by Penland and from Flickr.Somehow the single diamond doesn't convey elegance quite like the emeralds and diamonds. Ahhh.

While I love these two pieces, I really guess that the ones I love most are the ones that I can touch and rub with my fingers and examine the patterns. They are carefully tucked away among my beads, examples of need for beauty and the kinesthetic potencies of such gemstones as malachite, azurite, amethyst and the beautiful agates.

I remember walking into a gem store in, hmmmm, maybe it was Boulder, CO, and gasping at the beauty of a tremendous hunk of barite roses. I went in and was assaulted by what felt like vibrations being given off by the large pieces of crystals and other gemstones. I had to go outside and peer in to see the wonders because I felt so overwhelmed by the vibrations. Silly me. Rocks don't give off vibrations. LOL

So, I enjoy handling small pieces of gemstones, but I don't have a single barite rose - too much vibration in them for me.

And, the Good News is.....

One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. 6When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” 7The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” 8Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” John 5:4-8

I am 62 years old, and I have been sick with respiratory problems most of my life. I don't remember when I wasn't sick a lot.

Yesterday, my pulmonologist told me that my lungs were in good shape, my cardio stress test was good, my thyroid was good, my anemia was gone, my asthma was under control, and that basically I am healthy. I have never been told that in all my life! I am healthy.

Then I asked "Why, if I am healthy, my life is a struggle with tiredness and breathlessness?" He told me I needed "de-conditioning". When pressed for a definition, he hemmed and hawed, but eventually inferred that I am overweight and out of shape. Then I heard him begin to lecture me on that...I'm not sure what he said that created that impression for I can't imagine his lecturing me. He is a good and kind man...just not very blunt.

I became ragingly angry. The only thing that is wrong with me is something I have done to myself. It's all my fault. And, I've failed at Weight Watchers, and I don't do enough of the right kind of exercise. And, I am a failure.

I drove the 15 miles home on a back winding road at speeds far above what was safe. I stormed into the house in tears. My partner, who has been saying this for some time, tried to comfort me. There was no comfort.

I have been healed. I am well. Well, except for the things that I do to myself. I'm around enough AA people to know that I have just been twelfth stepped - confronted with my disease - overeating, not exercising. Now the choice is up to me - continue overeating, not exercising and die - or choose to be healed, to be well.

Hey, last night I didn't much want to be well. I'm not sure that I'm willing to do what is necessary to be well. I wanted to die instead; it was too hard.

Someone this morning asked me what changed when I decided to quit drinking. I don't even remember. Seems like I woke up one morning on the floor in my own vomit and decided I didn't want to do that again. After that, alcohol began making me sick when I drank. So I quit.

Now, I'm confronted with a different prospect. I can't give up food as I gave up alcohol. Food is my comfort. Even last night, food was my comfort. I ate three tacos, then went to Dairy Queen and had a small chocolate malt. I felt so much better. I quit crying; I was able to think; I wasn't angry; I didn't hurt. I wish food didn't work as a pain (of all kinds) killer. It's easy to give up a coping mechanism that doesn't work any longer.

Do I want to be well? The verdict is still out on that one. But, for this hour, this minute, the answer is yes.